Protegit Ergo Amat
by Clever Lass
Summary: Takes place after On Stranger Tides. Jack is the kind of person that things just seem to happen to. Elizabeth is the kind of person who makes things happen. A polite visit to the new baby turns into unforeseen adventures, partnerships, schemes, friendships, traps, lost love, battles, revenge, and new beginnings. Complete!
1. A Stranger in the Night

Alone in her bed, tucked away in her isolated cottage on the hill above New Flimwell, Elizabeth awoke gradually to the sound of a low murmur, a deep, quiet humming. It sounded familiar, safe, so she didn't hurry to wake. When she heard a steady, rhythmic creaking, she frowned and blinked her eyes open in the dark. With a quiet groan, she rolled over and listened intently.

Someone was in her room. As soundlessly as possible, she reached under the mattress for her dagger, quickly pushed back the covers and sat up.

The humming stopped and she froze.

Out of the darkness came a familiar voice. "Hello, Lizzie."

"Jack?" she gasped. She stood up but stumbled over her shoes, tossed carelessly on the floor the night before.

"Aye, 'S me. Here, let me—" and he reached up and opened the shutter. Moonlight flooded the dark bedroom.

"What are you doing here? And by here, I mean _in my bedroom in the middle of the night_, Jack?"

Jack chuckled and started rocking again; Elizabeth recognized the rhythmic creaking. "Relax, love. I just stopped in for a bit of a visit. Had to meet the new arrival, here." He nodded toward his lap, where, Elizabeth suddenly realized, he was holding her child. "Light the lamp, will you?"

"Jack, put my baby down and get out!" she ordered.

" 'Lizabeth, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm not going to do any harm or cause any trouble. Light the lamp, darling."

Elizabeth lit the lamp.

She blinked a few times while her eyes adjusted, but Jack didn't seem to have the same problem. Must be the kohl he wore. He stared at her, black eyes wide with appreciation. " 'Lizabeth, dear! I must say, motherhood certainly suits you!"

Flushing, Elizabeth turned around and drew on her robe over her translucent nightgown. She sank back down on the bed and stowed the dagger back underneath the edge of her mattress.

Jack's teeth glinted in a grin when he saw the dagger. "You can take the girl away from the pirates…" he said.

Elizabeth finished the quote dryly, "But the girl can't seem to keep the pirates away from her."

"Beating them off with sticks, are you?"

"Don't tempt me. Why are you here, Jack?"

"I told you. Social call. Heard you'd had the sproglet, so I thought I'd pop in." He stood up and carried the infant over to the bed. Instead of handing him to Elizabeth, he sat down on the bed next to her, still holding the child. He dragged the lamp over closer.

"Now, then, let's take a look," he said, unwrapping the baby's blankets from around its head and face. Amused, Elizabeth let him.

"Looks more like you than Will, thank the Lord," he muttered. "Got his ears, though, poor lad. Have to teach him how to wear his bandana later on, won't I? Cover 'em up."

"Is that why you wear one?" Elizabeth asked sweetly. "Ears stick out?"

He glared at her with a scowl, as he wordlessly lifted his hair out of the way to show her his nice, flat ear—but soon his eyes were drawn back to the baby. The baby started to wake up, and one little waving hand caught his finger. "Ah! Good grip, too. He'll be a swordsman. How about his reflexes?" He unwrapped the legs and feet of the baby, and ran his thumbnail down one tiny foot. It contracted. He gently poked the chubby knee and it twitched. "Good sign." The baby started to squirm, eyelids fluttering.

"Oh, you're waking him," Elizabeth said, dismayed.

"Am I? Oh, good. I did want to see what the eyes looked like."

"All right, but if he cries, you get to quiet him."

The eyes were open now, and Jack peered into them closely. The baby returned his earnest gaze calmly, and one waving arm patted the beads hanging from his beard and started them swinging. "Eyes look like yours, too," he said. "Bit darker, maybe. Hard to tell with this light. That's good, though—you always could see further than most." He nodded to her.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Jack, was that a compliment?"

"Depends. Will it get me anything?"

"Still married," she reminded him with a little nudge of her elbow.

"Come, come, dearie, I didn't mean anything like that! My goodness, what a naughty mind you have! I only wanted a drink, darling. So if you've got any rum, go toddle off and get it while Junior here gets to know his Uncle Jack."

Elizabeth groaned. "No, I don't have any rum, and 'Junior' does not have an Uncle Jack! And he has a name, you know." She stood up and started fussing with the baby's things on the top of the dresser.

"Might have known the rum would be gone," Jack grumbled. "Always is, with you around. So what's his name, then? Wait, don't tell me: William Turner the Third. Right?"

Elizabeth started to shake her head in negation, but Jack wasn't finished. "And I'm deeply hurt at your denial of my avuncular relationship with the little chap. He'll only get to see his father once before he's a man. He'll need someone to fill the gap, love."

"And you think it should be a pirate?" Elizabeth sneered.

"Why not? 'S what both his parents are," Jack shot back.

Elizabeth turned and glared at him. She had a sudden flash of memory of the last time Jack had called her a pirate—immediately after she had kissed him, and immediately before she had abandoned him to be killed. She said nothing.

In a more conciliatory tone, Jack asked, "So, was I right? About the name?"

"No, actually. His name is Jacob Swann Turner."

"Jacob, is it? Good name. I like it. I thought sure you were going to do something trite, like name him after his father. Glad to see you've more imagination than that. _Jake_. Sounds a bit like Jack, doesn't it? That would sort of make me his namesake." He put his hand on his heart. "I'm flattered, love."

"He's not named after you, and it's Jacob, not Jake! Ohh!" Elizabeth got so aggravated she stomped across the room and looked out the window. "And to think, Jacob and I could be peacefully sleeping, if it weren't for you," she growled.

Jack laughed. "Aye, but you'd much rather have my company than none. Admit it!"

"Never! My life without you in it is nice and peaceful!"

"Dull, you mean." Suddenly he looked back down at the baby in his lap. "Whoops, I think the little chap's sprung a leak. Where do you keep the—ah, here they are."

Open mouthed in shock, Elizabeth watched as a fearsome pirate very handily changed her son's nappy. He was efficient but gentle, and he even knew the trick of uncover, then re-cover to avoid getting sprayed, and then continue with the process. He folded the new nappy correctly, and pinned it back on securely—tight, but not too tight—and even took a moment to tickle the baby's belly with his braids. Then he handed him to Elizabeth, as the baby had started to fuss.

"Here you go, love. If he's anything like a grown man, he'll want to replace what he's just got rid of."

Elizabeth took the baby, blushing. The baby was starting to give his hungry cry and root around at her breasts. She looked up to see Jack staring at them. She cleared her throat at him.

"Right, I'll just wait in the other room, shall I?" He withdrew into the other part of the cottage and closed the door. Elizabeth heard him breathe a long, slow sigh from the other side of the door, and smiled as she unbuttoned her nightgown to nurse the baby.

Jacob didn't take long to nurse himself back to sleep, and Elizabeth put him back in his cot and went into the other room.

The cottage was small, with a bedroom, a combination living area and kitchen, and a small back-house behind it, backed up to the forest. A rushing little stream flowed past, about 50 meters down the hill. That was where Elizabeth got her water. There was a footpath down the hill toward the beach, which must have been how Jack had come up; the peak of the grassy hill ended in a sheer drop overlooking the little cove where she and Jacob often swam. She bet that's where the Pearl was anchored, as it was difficult to see from the main port of the town, and difficult to find if you didn't know it was there.

The living area was equipped with a couple of chairs, a divan, and a low table, upon which Jack was currently resting his boots as he relaxed in the armchair. He had lit a couple of lamps, had poured some wine, and was examining the book titles on the bookcase next to the chair.

"So how do you know so much about babies?" Elizabeth asked, closing the bedroom door behind her. "Lot of by-blows, have you?"

He recoiled. "Lord, I hope not! None that I know of, anyway. And when did you start talking like that, anyway, Mrs Turner?"

Elizabeth found, to her discomfort, that she actually didn't like Jack's calling her that. She smirked and pointed to herself. "Pirate!"

He laughed and swung his feet off the table, and leaned forward to hand her the other glass of wine that he'd poured. He raised his glass to her. "Here's to young Jake in there. May be combine the best qualities of his mother…" he looked at her wickedly, "And his Uncle Jack!"

"His father has some good qualities too," she said dryly.

"Then may young Jake inherit both of 'em," Jack generously allowed.

Elizabeth smiled and drank. "Where did I get the wine?" she asked.

Jack gestured expansively toward the door. "Brought along one or two things for you and the child. And my men got some things together as a baby gift and sent 'em along with me. Seems the Pirate King is still remembered fondly on the _Black Pearl_."

Elizabeth felt warmed. "That's very kind. Please thank them for me."

He nodded.

"So what about the babies?"

"Not going to let that go, eh?" Jack said uncomfortably.

She shook her head.

"Give me your word you'll keep this between us," he warned, suddenly serious. "An' I mean never, ever mention it to anyone else, savvy? Even if they threaten you or offer to pay for the info."

She frowned. "If you'd rather not tell me…"

"Of course I'd rather not tell you, but since we've got this far and I'm uncle to your child now, I pretty much have to. I'll just be having your word first."

"I swear I won't tell anyone."

He nodded sharply. "Right, then. Here's the thing: I have siblings. Well, half-siblings. I was fourteen when they were born, and me step-mum was awful sick for a long time, so I had to take care of 'em. Twins. Adam and Sarah. But now they're grown, and they're both of 'em law-abiding, respectable folk, so I can't have you telling anyone they're related to me and ruining their lives. Savvy?"

"I promise I won't. To be honest, I was surprised at how handy you were with Jacob."

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, I like 'em, see? Babies."

"Really?"

"Aye, just don't tell anyone that, or I'll have to… well, I'll do summing really bad to you. I've a reputation to think of."

"Of course." Elizabeth drank her wine, rolling it around in her mouth. It was good wine. She looked at her guest, sprawled out comfortably in the arm chair while she perched on the divan. She was amazed at how glad she was to see him.

"So how long are you at port?"

"Just tonight. Had to anchor in that little cove so we could replenish our water and do some foraging, but rumor has it the new Navy commodore will be here tomorrow or the next day, so I have to make sure the _Pearl_ won't be."

"Ah. Makes sense. Is there anything you need? Anything I can pick up in the village for you in the morning?"

He waved his hand airily. "Not a thing, love. This visit is purely for your benefit. After all, it's been altogether too long since you've had the pleasure of my agreeable company, my ready wit, and my 'andsome face."

"I appreciate the favor you're doing me by coming," she said drily.

He waved away her thanks as expansively as if they had been genuine. "Think nothing of it, love. There's more than enough Jack to go around!"

"It's a pity you can't fill your sails with all that hot air," Elizabeth said sadly. "You'd never have to worry about doldrums again."

He cast her a sharp look and then smirked. "What makes you think I can't? How d'you suppose the Pearl got to be the fastest ship in the Caribbean?"

"The ego of her captain must have something to do with it, I'm sure."

They bantered back and forth for a while longer, and then Jack stood up and stretched. "Hate to say this, love, but I need to go. We're weighing anchor before first light." He came over and helped her to her feet.

"It was nice to see you again, Jack," she told him.

Jack nodded agreement. "Of course it was!" he agreed with a smirk. Then he suddenly sobered. He took hold of her shoulders and looked down at her seriously. "Listen, Lizzie," he said. "You ever need to contact me, I get mail at the Faithfull Bryde in Tortuga under the name of John Robert Passer. And I don't care if all you need's a bottle of rum to get you through the lonely nights. You need it, you call me."

Touched in spite of her amusement, Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Jack, but I'll be fine."

He let his hands trail down from her shoulders until he was holding both her hands in his. "I'm not trying to replace the man you love. Want to make that clear. You made your choice and I respect that—but the fact is, he can't be here with you, and that's my fault. Will's a good man, a good friend, and so are you. So you need anything, you let me know. Savvy?"

"All right. Fine."

"I'll be 'aving your word on that, my girl. I know you, you see. You're a damn fool woman who thinks she can do everything 'erself. Promise."

"Fine! I promise! You happy now?"

"Aye. Good." He rocked on his heels for a moment, as if uncertain of what to do, and then leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Take care, Lizzie," he said, giving her hands a squeeze, and then he was gone out the door into the night. Elizabeth went to the door and looked out, but he was gone.

"Take care, Jack," she called softly after him.

The lamplight shone on several bundles just outside the door. "Oh, my!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Jack hadn't brought just _one or two_ things; he'd brought a whole pile! She dragged the sacks inside, grinning when one of them clinked with a very bottle-like sound.


	2. Plunder from the Pearl

Chapter 2: Plunder from the _Pearl_

Next morning she woke up and fed Jacob, then put him on a blanket with a couple of toys to amuse him while she unpacked the loot. Mr Gibbs had made a little rag-doll of a puppy, and Pintel-and-Ragetti had sent a crude carving of the _Pearl,_ and Cotton had made a shuttlecock out of parrot feathers. Marty's gift was by far the nicest: he had whittled a wooden flute, and carved it very intricately with vines. Three birds sat among the vines, and Elizabeth smiled with a lump in her throat when she saw them: a parrot, a swan, and a sparrow. Apparently Marty wanted her to think of the _Pearl_ every time she played it.

The rest of the plunder, for it could be nothing else, had to be compliments of Jack. She laughed when she unpacked a bag of clothes and found not only two dresses but some trousers, shirts, and coats—all in her size. "He knows me too well," she muttered to herself as she went to hang them up. Having got used to the freedom of trousers, she found it hard to go back to dresses and corsets. Not to mention that corsets were near-impossible to put on without a ladies' maid, and were still painful and inconvenient to wear.

And ah, there was the rum. Three full bottles of it, along with two bottles of some very good red wine and a bottle of white. "Does he think I do nothing but drink?" she asked her son, who was trying earnestly to roll over.

There was also a large bag of flour, one of sugar, and another of apples. "Well, we certainly won't starve, will we, Jacob?" she asked him. "I hope you don't mind apple pie, because it looks as if that's all I'll be making for the next month!"

The gift from Jack himself was a handsome silver rattle, Elizabeth shook it. It didn't sound like beads or pebbles inside. Sand, perhaps. It gave a shushing sound, like waves lapping on the sand. She liked it.

She put away the rest of the "swag" and went and got Jacob, who had managed to roll onto his side and was looking astonished at himself. She picked him up and cuddled him. "So how did you like meeting your Uncle Jack last night?" she asked him, not noticing that she had picked up on Jack's way of referring to himself. When she heard herself, she only laughed ruefully. Jack had a way of insinuating himself when you least expected it.

And it _had_ been good to see him. Elizabeth had only a few acquaintances in the village, including Mrs Thomas Hound, the midwife. Elizabeth had no idea what her first name was; everyone in the village just called her Mrs Thomas. Her husband, Thomas Hound, they just called Hound. Elizabeth had met him once and been unimpressed, but she and Mrs Thomas maintained a cordial, if formal, relationship. On days that brought her into the village for shopping, she and the midwife would sip tea and call each Mrs Thomas and Mrs Turner. Aside from that, she didn't really socialize with anyone else. As a governor's daughter she didn't fit in with the working-class population of the village, and as a former pirate, her behavior was a little too free and scandalous for the sensibilities of her neighbors. Mrs Thomas, however, had helped to deliver little Jacob, and Elizabeth's being a pirate didn't bother her; in fact, Mrs Thomas had been impressed by Elizabeth's sailor-like vocabulary during labor. It was their secret.

The next month, during the full moon when he could easily see to make his way up the hill from the beach, Jack showed up again in her bedroom. He brought a pair of men's boots in her size, and a bottle of rum. The month after that, he brought Gibbs along with him-that time, he knocked on her bedroom shutters and then went around to the front door. The next month he brought along Marty, his small, bald gunner, and did the same thing. Marty brought her a new baby blanket.

The next month, Jack came alone again, so he just used the bedroom window as a door, and she started to sense that once again there was a stranger in her room. She woke up with a start, reaching for her dagger, until she realized it was him. She growled and threw her pillow at him. "Would it _kill_ you to use the door?"

He laughed, gold teeth glinting in the moonlight streaming in from the open shutter. "And deny myself the chance to see you in your nightgown, dearie? Perish the thought. Besides, I like that little panicked gasp you make when you first wake up an' realize I'm here." He came over to the bed and snapped his fingers impatiently. "Come on, let's get the lamp lit, love. Hurry up, now. I have to see my nevvie, and I don't have all night."

Sighing, Elizabeth lit the lamp and Jack bounded over to the cot where Jacob lay sleeping but starting to stir. "Hey there, Master Jake. You going to wake up and say hello to your Uncle Jack?" He leaned over and picked up the baby, bringing him over to Elizabeth's bed as he did every time, so he could see him in the light. He scrutinized the child's face.

"Your looks are improving," he informed the baby. "Lucky thing you take after your mum there, eh? Shouldn't wonder if old dad's starting to get tentacle-ey by now. Wouldn't want to look like him, no, sir! Pity you're not mine, though. I've a very 'andsome face, so I have. Lot better than your old dad's."

"Jack!" Elizabeth scolded, smacking him on the arm.

He turned his kohled, wounded-looking eyes in her direction. "Wot? I suppose you've been telling him lies about how good looking his father is?" He tsked. "Mustn't fib, love."

The baby scrunched up his little face and started to cry.

"The disposition, though—that's definitely Will's," Jack grinned, handing the child to Elizabeth. "Always whining. I'll just be out 'ere while you, uh…" he gestured grandly towards her chest. "…Tend to matters there." He went into the other room and shut the door.

Elizabeth chuckled as she opened her nightgown to feed her son, gasping slightly as he latched on, then relaxing as he settled in to nurse. Jack certainly livened up her humdrum life! She had to admit she was glad to see him, even if he did scare her half to death every time he showed up for a midnight visit. She enjoyed spending time just bantering back and forth in her sitting room in the middle of the night—in a way, it made her less "homesick" for the life of a pirate. He stayed longer that time, and Elizabeth was sad to see him leave when dawn streaked across the sky.

She took advantage of his invitation to write to him, and sent him brief notes asking for some things she couldn't get in the village—some linen fabric for some clothes, and some tools for doing general household repairs. He must have checked his mail often, for he always brought it and wouldn't let her pay him for them.

"Come now, Jack, that's very un-piratical of you! Take the money!"

"Not going to take your money, love. Don't worry, though. I have the proper payment in mind." He leered at her, laughing when she punched him on the arm. "Darling, what a naughty mind you do have! All I meant was that I'm storing it all up in case I need a really _big_ favor from you someday! What can you possibly have been thinking, Lizzie dear?"

A few more months went by, and Elizabeth looked forward to his visits more and more. He was impressed with little Jacob's development—Jacob was sitting up now, for short periods anyway—and his rate of growth.


	3. The Plague

_Author's Note: This chapter mentions some of the more grisly symptoms of serious illness. Also, lactation and breastfeeding is detailed. There's also some __groping __and __nudity, but in a caregiving context rather than a sexual one._

* * *

Chapter 3: The Plague

Jack was enjoying his monthly visits to Elizabeth. They had got to be fairly good friends, and it was nice to be able to spend time with her, without having to worry about mutinies, krakens, betrayal, and death. That in itself was a nice change, after his recent hair-raising experiences with Angelica Teach at the Fountain of Youth. There was also little Jacob, who—Jack fondly hoped—was beginning to recognize him.

Best of all, Elizabeth was pretty to look at and amusing to talk to, after spending so much time with pirates. She was also intelligent and educated, and he didn't have to dumb down his speech when he talked with her. He liked being able, just for a brief period of time, to pretend that he was the respectable sort of man who could come to call on a respectable woman like her.

He never made any advances, even though he was very attracted to her and liked and admired her a great deal. He'd never drawn that boundary before with any other married woman, but somehow Elizabeth was different. He told himself it was the fact that she was married to the man who captained the ship of the dead, and he didn't want to get on Will Turner's bad side—but even if it hadn't been for Will, he wasn't sure he would have tried to seduce Elizabeth. He respected her too much. He flirted outrageously, of course, but always in such a way that they could both laugh it off and she would feel a little more attractive than before.

He found himself looking forward to each full moon, and in between times, making port at Tortuga frequently to see if she had written him anything.

However, the next time he picked up his mail at the Faithfull Bryde, he had a single letter in a hand he didn't recognize. It was dated five days ago.

Instead of Elizabeth's breezy _Dear Jack,_ this letter began:

_Hon. John Robert Passer, Esq._

_Der Sir:_

_You don't know me, but Mrs Turner who live Up the Hill says you may be Relied on in an Emergency._

_Sir, she is ill of an infeckshus fever and her Child With Her. My Husband forbids me to see her again till she be Well, so as not to spread Contagion in the Village. But Sir I fear for her life and that of her Child as she has No One to Tend her. If you can, Please Send help Immediately._

_Mrs Thomas Hound_

"GIBBS!" Jack bellowed.

His first mate, comfortably ensconced in a chair with a beer in front of him and a girl on his knee, looked up. "Aye, Captain?"

"Gather the men. We're leaving."

"But Jack, we just got here!"

Jack strode by, handed him the letter with a clap on the shoulder, and kept on walking. "Cotton! Ragetti! Marty! Pintel! Back to the ship immediately!"

"Two or three others are already upstairs, Captain," Marty ventured.

"Well, go get them, man! They can finish next time. Any man not aboard the Pearl in fifteen minutes gets left behind for good."

"Make it ten!" Gibbs bellowed from behind him. He handed Jack the letter back with a nod. "Captain, I'll have 'em there in ten."

"Good man, Gibbs."

From Tortuga to New Flimwell was two days' journey with favorable winds, but with stormy weather it could take as long as five or six. Elizabeth could be dead by then. For that matter, she could have been dead by the time he got the message. Jack paced the deck during the day and slept early at night, to make the time go faster.

Fortunately, they had fair winds. They arrived in the middle of the night, and Jack leaped aboard one of the jolly boats. "Cotton, you'll be staying here," he told the mute man who was helping them load the boat. "Pass down that bundle, will you?" Cotton handed down a small bundle of assorted blankets and medical remedies that Jack had prepared. "Gibbs, Marty, you're with me."

They rowed ashore, and Jack leaped out and ran full-tilt up the hill, leaving the other two to pull up and secure the boat and bring up the supplies. Jack arrived breathless outside the little cottage and banged on the door. Getting no answer, he tried the latch, but it was locked. He went around and climbed in through the bedroom window like he usually did.

The smell made him gag, but he took a moment to sniff and analyze it. Vomit, excrement, fever, and stale sweat, but thankfully no rot. They might not be dead after all. Yet.

He struck a light and lit up the lantern he had brought, and looked around. The baby lay still and naked in his cot surrounded by filthy cloths, and Jack had to hold the lantern right over him and peer hard to see his little chest moving up and down. "One alive," he muttered. He went over to Elizabeth's bed, wrinkling his nose as the stench increased. He held the lantern over her unmoving form and bent down closely. He couldn't see her ribcage moving. Panicked, he put his hand on the side of her neck, feeling for a pulse, and there it was: slow and barely perceptible, but steady. Her skin was clammy, but it was from sweat, not death, and he sighed in relief. "Two alive, but only just. Right," he muttered. He lit the bedroom lamp and went through to unlock the front door for the men he could hear laboring up the hill behind him. The main living area wasn't as bad, but he still threw wide the shutters and took a few gulps of clean, fresh air. The others got to the door and dumped the supplies on the ground outside the little house.

"How are they, Captain?" Gibbs asked anxiously.

"Both alive, barely. I'll need some water and broth for the lady, right away." He grabbed the glass that Marty handed him, filled it from the bucket on the table, and turned to head back in. "At sunrise, Marty, you go down by the village and see if you can 'liberate' a milking goat." He turned to Gibbs. "The house is uninhabitable. I'm going to see if I can get them to a fit state to be moved, and then take 'em both down to the Pearl."

"Aye, it does smell a bit like a Paris sewer in here. But they're both alive, ye say?"

"For now. Let me tend to the baby in here, and then I'll be bringing Mrs Turner out there; mind you cover up the divan with a cloth. She hasn't made it to the chamber pot for days, it would seem."

"Oh!" Gibbs made a face that was half sympathy and half disgust. "The poor lass. Aye, Captain, we'll see to it."

Jack took a moment to steel himself for the stench, and then went back into the bedroom to tend to the baby. Little Jake's face looked gaunt. So did his mother's, for that matter. At several points she had lost her bowels and vomited in her bed, and Jack wrinkled his nose at the smell. He took a clean sheet and covered up the mess, and then picked up the baby. Jake's eyes opened but he didn't move. Jack was shocked at how light he was.

"Not a good idea to be reducing at your age, my lad," he told the child. He used his free hand and his knee to shove Elizabeth into a sitting position, then eased himself in behind her so he was leaning against the headboard and she was leaning against him. He reached around to unfasten her nightgown in front. Her breasts felt hot and swollen. Clucking his tongue, he put the baby on her lap and held its head up to suckle.

"Not exactly how I've imagined seeing them, Lizzie dear," he muttered as the baby latched on and started sucking greedily. "Or feeling them, either. You realize you'll owe me a proper viewing later." He got the glass of water he had brought in, and held it up to her lips. The water dribbled out the sides of her slack mouth, but she swallowed some of it; he could see her throat muscles working. "Good girl. Little more." He gave her another few swallows and then set the glass down.

The baby nursed energetically and singlemindedly. Jack didn't blame him; from the state of things, he guessed that it had been at least two days since she'd been able to get out of bed to feed the baby at all. Possibly longer.

Even now, she whimpered in pain and pawed at the baby. Jack grabbed her hands in his free one. "None of that, love. Not if you want your son to live. I know it hurts, but this will make it better."

Either his words or the low, soothing tones of his voice calmed her and she lay still. She turned her head where it lolled on his shoulder. "Jack?" she whispered.

"Aye, Lizzie, I'm here."

"Thank God." She sighed and seemed to nestle into his body as if she could finally relax now.

Jack detached the infant from the first breast and felt it. The swelling and heat had gone down a little. He switched it to the other one. "Hope you're hungry, lad."

He gave Elizabeth some more water while the baby nursed, and just about the time the baby was finished, Gibbs knocked on the door to say the broth was ready. Jack quickly fastened Elizabeth's nightgown again and eased out from behind her. He picked up the baby and brought him to the door. "Here, take this," he told him, handing the larger man Jacob's tiny body, replete with milk. "I've got to get her out of that room."

"'Tis more than a bit ripe in there. Must have been ill for a while, eh?" Gibbs looked down at the baby and started to coo over him.

"Best wrap him up in something, Gibbs. He just ate. And with babies, what goes in—"

"Must come out, aye." Gibbs took the baby outside and Jack heard him tearing up a sheet into some more usable pieces. Jack carried Elizabeth out to the cloth-covered divan. Her nightgown was filthy and her skin was caked with dried vomit, among other things. He gagged a little. "She needs a bath, and so does the baby. And a doctor." He started to feed her the broth.

"Why not just take 'em both down to the beach, Captain?" Marty asked. "Be a sight easier than hauling water up here and heating it. She'll need two or three baths, from the look of things. And then there's the laundry—"

"No, that'll all have to be burned," Jack decided. "We'll take them to the _Pearl_, and Cotton can see to them. Marty, get us a blanket to carry her in, would you? And another clean one with it, for after she's bathed. See if she'll take some of the broth. I'll grab some things for her to wear." Jack went back into the bedroom and opened her dresser drawers, grabbing some clothes at random. He grinned when he saw the unused dresses next to the obviously worn shirt and breeches. He found a sailor's duffle in her closet and threw some clothes into it. Clean shirt and breeches, clean nightgown… he grinned as he threw in a clean dress along with it. "A dress or nothing," he muttered. "Heh! She'd kill me." That is, if she lived long enough to be angry.

* * *

_Author's Note (2): Influenza back in the 1700s was not just the "flu" that we get today that's more like a bad cold. Influenza could devastate a population in less than a week. That's probably what Elizabeth and her baby had, although there were any number of fevers with a similar incubation period and mortality rate. Yellow fever—also called "yellow jack" (as was the yellow quarantine flag that a ship had to fly if anyone on board was ill with it)—was another likely culprit. I'll let you decide which it was, but whatever it was, it was serious!_

_And a public service announcement: the only reward that fanfic authors get is reviews. Responsible readers review! Only takes a minute, and good critiques help me improve my writing. Go on, now. I'll wait.  
_


	4. Home, Sweet Pearl

_Note: More caregiving-related nudity. Poor Jack! Will's going to kill him.  
_

* * *

Jack came back out of the bedroom with the duffle to see Marty trying to spoon some broth into Elizabeth's mouth with little success, and Gibbs walking the floor with the baby, talking and cooing to it. Gibbs had found the silver rattle full of sand and shook it at the Jacob. The baby ignored it, fixing his eyes on Jack who was wrapping Elizabeth up in the blanket Marty had found.

"Marty, never mind the broth. You carry the baby and the duffle, eh? Don't know as you're tall enough to keep Mrs Turner off the ground. Gibbs, you grab the other end of the blanket," Jack directed. On a count of three, he and Gibbs lifted Elizabeth off the divan in a sort of hammock, while Marty shouldered the duffle and cradled the baby.

The trip down to the beach took a long time, but they finally made it. Once there, Jack and Gibbs laid Elizabeth down carefully in the sand. Marty handed Gibbs the baby while he stripped down to just his breeches, and then he took the baby again and brought him right into the water with him. Gibbs stood there stolidly while Jack unwrapped the blanket from around Elizabeth.

"Er, Captain? How do we manage… uh… here?" Gibbs wanted to know.

Jack stopped, eyes darting around in a panic. There was nothing for it—he was going to have to bathe her himself. There was no other option, unless he wanted to bring her aboard the ship covered with her own vomit and excrement, and open sores from lying in it for days. No, a seawater bath would help her more than anything else right now, but oh, Will was going to kill him when he found out! That is, if there was anything even left of him when Elizabeth herself found out. He groaned.

Gibbs looked apprehensive. He looked like how Jack felt. Sighing, Jack sat down and took off his boots, his coat, his hat, sword, belts, and pistol until he was down to breeches and shirt. An exclamation from Marty made him pause.

"You all right with that baby, Marty? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sir. It's just—he's a slippery little blighter. Like an eel. I keep thinking I've lost him in the surf."

Jack looked up at Gibbs. "Go help him with the baby, eh? Wouldn't do to drown the little nipper. I'll tend to Mrs Turner." He grimaced. "Bad enough she'll know that _I_ had to see her in her skin—she won't be wanting anyone else seeing her. At least this way she'll only kill me and not both of us."

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs said with relief, with a solid undertone of _thank you_! "And with her being married to the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and all…" he shuddered, "Let's just say I wouldn't want to be on Will Turner's bad side these days." He went to help Marty with the baby.

Jack bared his teeth. "Yeah, thanks for that reminder." He lifted Elizabeth and carried her into the water. Once in there, he ripped off her disgusting nightgown and threw it back on shore. He started at the top with her hair and worked his way down, He used the end of his sash as a facecloth, cleaning carefully around her eyes, ears, and nose. He scoured her skin with beach sand wherever it felt rough or like it had something unmentionable caked onto it.

He managed to wash the rest of her torso with a dogged determination to be businesslike about it, but when he had to wash her rear and private parts he felt himself blushing. It was anything but sexual. If it had been, he wouldn't have blushed, but this—this cleansing of her body to help save her life—this was mortifying.

"Will's going to kill me," he muttered. "Will's going to kill me, Will's going to kill me, Will's going to kill me." Then he realized exactly where he was washing, and groaned. "Never mind Will—Elizabeth is going to kill me! _Again_!"

Gibbs heard him and laughed. "Thank God the kraken is dead, eh, Jack?" he called over from a respectful distance.

Jack just gave a pessimistic groan and continued with what he was doing. Finally he finished her legs and was able to hold her up with one hand and scrub with the other. Ankles, toes, and there, he was done.

The other two men, long since finished with the baby, were standing side by side with their backs to him. When they heard his stream of expletives and repetitions of his imminent demise grind to a halt, they looked at each other and nodded. "Captain? When you're finished, we have something for Mrs Turner to wear."

"All right, Gibbs. Just a moment." Jack slipped his arms under Elizabeth's still unconscious body and brought her in. He wrapped her up in the clean blanket he'd laid out before. Then he found he needed Gibbs' help trying to slip on the nightgown over her head.

Gibbs held her up with his eyes clenched shut, to be nightgowned and rewrapped in the blanket.

With two passengers that both needed holding, Jack stationed Marty in the stern with both of them. "You hold the baby, and hold Mrs Turner up so she don't fall in," he ordered. "You let her fall, you touch her in the wrong spot, you even look at her wrong, and I'll kill you," he warned the smaller man, getting in and picking up the oars while Gibbs pushed them off. "Then you'll get picked up by the _Dutchman_, and her husband will kill you."

Marty gulped and put a _very_ respectful arm around Elizabeth to keep her from falling.

When they got to the ship, Jack had them lower a hammock for Elizabeth, while he went up the ladder and helped bring her aboard. Gibbs handed Marty up the baby.

Jack picked Elizabeth up in his arms again. "Gibbs!" he yelled.

"Right here, Captain," the first mate replied, just reaching the top of the ladder.

Jack whirled with Elizabeth in his arms, and she moaned. "Come with me. Bring the child."

In his cabin, he placed Elizabeth carefully on his bed. He opened up a dresser drawer and emptied it out, placing a folded blanket into it. Gibbs leaned over and put the baby in it. Jacob lay in the drawer, kicking his feet and making contented little grunting noises.

Jack and Gibbs exchanged a smile. "At least someone's feeling better," Gibbs said.

"I'm hoping Mrs Turner will, in another day or so. Have Cotton come in and check on her tonight. Oh, and I'll need a hammock strung over there," he pointed to a space between the rafters. "If she's sicker than Cotton can handle, we'll get a doctor tomorrow along with Marty's goat. Gibbs," he put his hand on the mate's shoulder. "I know you're a busy man, but I'm going to have to ask you to help take care of these two. You're one of the only men I would trust not to lose his head over a pretty girl and do something stupid."

"Aye, be glad to, Captain," Gibbs assured him. With a raised eyebrow, he asked, "What about you?"

Jack gave a cynical laugh. "Ha. I'd be the _last_ man I'd trust not to do something stupid. Monumentally stupid, even."

"Like forgetting that the pretty girl is married to the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_?"

Jack gave him a look. "'S not likely I'd forget that!" He cast his friend a sharp look. "I don't have to tell you not to allow any speculation on the part of the crew, eh? First man who even thinks she's something less than respectable just because she's in my cabin will get towed half a day, I swear. And if he dies from the towing, then he'll have to face the man she's respectably married and faithful to, and explain it to him. Make sure everyone knows."

"Aye, Captain. No speculation. Cotton, doctor, hammock over there, and no monumental stupidity."

"Aye, Mr. Gibbs." Gibbs left, and Jack looked over at Elizabeth, still motionless on his bed. "_Especially_ no monumental stupidity," he muttered.

* * *

_Please review! I'm starting to wonder if anyone is even reading this. Thanks to those few people who have already reviewed. This story is close to 30 chapters long, and is nearly finished, but I do have an original novel I could be working on if there isn't enough interest here. Cheers!-CL_


	5. Convalescence with Pirates

Elizabeth moaned and started to shiver. Jack went and pulled the blankets out from under her, and covered her up. Two crewmen came in and strung his hammock for him; one of them started cooing over the baby until Jack shooed him out. Elizabeth continued to shiver. Jack got another blanket and covered her, and then added his coat. He felt her forehead; she was burning up and shouldn't be cold! He called for another blanket and covered her, but she still shivered.

Mr Cotton knocked and came in, handing Jack a cup of broth. He examined the baby first, apparently decided that he'd keep, and then went to the child's mother. He pulled back Elizabeth's blankets, felt her forehead, listened to her chest, and shook his head. He lit a few lanterns and set them up around her, and then looked speculatively at Jack. He pointed to the captain and then to the bed.

"What?" Jack asked. "No, mate. My hammock's over there. Mrs Turner's married, don't forget."

Cotton shook his head, pointed at Jack again, and then back at the bed.

"Not sure I like what you're implying," Jack remarked with a frown. "Even if she weren't married, which she is, she's ill and therefore not all that attractive."

Cotton shrugged and sat down on the bed, pulling off his boots. He put his feet up and prepared to lie down.

"Here, here, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Jack asked, irritated by the man's presumption.

Cotton pointed to Jack and shook his head for "no." He pointed to Elizabeth and mimed her shivering, then pointed to himself and shrugged.

"Oh! It's because she's cold! You mean to warm her with body heat!"

Cotton nodded.

"Oh, well, I can do that well enough," Jack said. "Out of there, now." He removed his boots, belts, and sword. He lay down in the spot that Cotton vacated. "Have Marty go ashore at 8 bells to see about that goat, and have Gibbs come in when he finishes watch, and I'll relieve him."

Cotton nodded.

"Oh, and bring me that baby. He can help with the body heat."

Cotton smiled and got little Jacob out of the dresser drawer, reaching over to put him on Elizabeth's other side. Jacob had fallen asleep and didn't wake; he nestled into his mother's body with a tiny grunt of satisfaction.

Jack waited until Cotton had gone and had shut the door. He rolled over to face Elizabeth, leaning up on his elbow to feel her forehead and face. She felt clammy and went on shivering. He pulled the blankets out from under his body and slid under them, throwing a leg and an arm over Elizabeth's body.

On her other side, Jacob began to stir and make fussing noises.

"Hungry again, lad?" Jack asked the baby. "Shouldn't wonder. Here, let's see if we can manage this, eh?" Carefully he rolled Elizabeth onto her side, facing away from him. He undid her nightgown, thankful that Mr Gibbs had remembered to bring her a clean one. He really didn't think he had the fortitude to be in bed with a naked Elizabeth. He pulled the baby closer to her breast.

"Come on, now, lad, you know what to do," he urged the infant. Jacob rooted around, but couldn't find what he was looking for. His fussing became more urgent.

"Aye, must be frustrating," Jack commiserated, reaching around and trying to connect baby to breast. "To be this close to something you want, but not be able to get at it. I feel your pain, me lad."

Finally Jacob found what he was looking for, and settled in to nurse. Jack sighed. "Well, that's good for you, innit?" he said. "You get to have what you want, and what do I get? Murdered by your parents when they find out what I've had to do to keep your mum alive. That's what I get!"

He sighed, and then noticed how Elizabeth was curling her body around the warmth that was her baby. He lay back down behind her to keep her warm in back. He put one arm under her head and draped the other one over her, just touching the baby's back to make sure he was all right.

Warmed and comfortable, with the scent of Elizabeth's hair in his nostrils, he drifted off to sleep.

He was awakened by Gibbs' quiet knock at the door at 8 bells.

The first mate opened the door quietly. "Jack?" he said.

"Come in, Gibbs," Jack replied quietly.

Gibbs had been expecting Jack to be in the hammock across the room. His head whipped around and his jaw dropped when he saw Jack in bed with Elizabeth.

"Great gods, Jack, what are ye doing?" he cried, aghast.

"Quiet, will you? Think I want her to wake up and find me here? Don't blame me—Cotton made me do it. Said she needed the body heat. The baby's here too, so keep your wig on—there's no debauchery going on."

Gibbs sighed in relief. "Cotton told me to come by after my watch."

"Aye, it's my turn at helm, and you could take over looking after Mrs Turner."

Gibbs swallowed hard. "Would, er, would that looking-after by any chance involve the sharin' of body heat?"

Jack felt Elizabeth's forehead and neck—no longer clammy and cold, but not yet warm, and she still shivered from time to time—and shrugged. "Quite possibly."

"In that case, Captain, how's about I take the helm and you keep doing what you're doing?" Gibbs offered desperately.

"Mr Gibbs, can it be you're afraid to share a bed with a pretty girl?" Jack teased.

Gibbs nodded enthusiastically. "When the pretty girl is married to the _Flying Dutchman_? Aye! You did say something about 'no monumental stupidity,' remember."

Jack remembered that Gibbs had always been much more superstitious than he himself was, even so much as going through his little spitting ritual over Davy Jones' black spot a couple years ago. He waved him away, and Gibbs gratefully withdrew. The baby started fussing again, and Jack lifted him over Elizabeth's body so he was between the two adults. "Hungry or leaky?" he asked him. The baby felt dry, so he decided the child must be hungry. Hard to blame him, really, as it had probably been days since he'd had any milk before the _Black Pearl_ got there. Jack rolled Elizabeth over onto her back and repositioned her, and held the baby up to nurse some more. He braced his arms against the mattress and went back to sleep.

* * *

_A.N. Most ships of the time would have either a ship's surgeon or a sailor who was good at dealing with wounds and illness-often he would have unofficially apprenticed with the surgeon on another ship, and then take that position on his own ship after being trained. Cotton is that man in this story. I can only imagine what his life could have been like before the Black Pearl, but I think it very likely he would have sought some education-i.e. learned to write-so that he could still communicate after he'd had his tongue cut out._

_Also-in real life, there is pretty much no way that a 6-month-old baby would have survived an illness this severe, with no treatment or nourishment for several days. The readers will simply have to suspend disbelief on that front, because I just can't bring myself to kill a baby. Thank God for fanfiction, because in real life he would not have survived._


	6. Suspicion

The sun was rising when Elizabeth's fever broke; suddenly much too warm, she threw the covers off and started shifting about. The four bells to mark 6:00 AM penetrated her unconscious mind, and she blinked her eyes open. She stretched, starting to roll onto her side. A calloused hand stopped her.

"Careful, love. Don't want to squash young Jake. Here, let me just—"

"What?" Elizabeth tried to say, but her throat felt thick and raspy and she couldn't get the word out. Was that Jack's voice? Jack's hands?

She felt those calloused hands fumbling around near her breasts, and she slapped them out of the way.

"Easy, darling, let me just move the baby, all right?"

Elizabeth waited until Jack had picked up the baby and got out of the bed to put him into—was that a dresser drawer? While he was out of the bed, she rolled over and pulled the covers up to her chin, and glared at him.

Jack turned back to her, ignoring her glare. He plunked himself down on the edge of the bed and reached out towards her face again. She whipped her hand out and grabbed his wrist, glaring at him.

"I'm checking to make sure your fever is down, love. Relax," he said. Grudgingly she let him feel her forehead.

She started to speak, but her throat was too dry. "Oh, here," Jack said, handing her a flask. To her grateful surprise, it was full of water. She drained it thirstily.

"Yeah, Cotton told me you would be thirsty when you woke," Jack observed. "How you feeling now?"

Elizabeth's eyes sparked with anger. "Furious. I could kill you! Jack, you want to tell me exactly what I am doing on _your _ship, in _your _bed, with _you _in it, _touching me_?" She groped around under the bed for her dagger.

He noticed what she was doing, and all the concern and good humor drained from Jack's face. The spark left his eyes as he started pulling on his boots. "When you put it like that, no, I really don't." He stood up and started strapping on his sash, belts, and sword with sharp, angry movements. "And there's no need to go reaching for the dagger, because I'll stop troubling you with my turpitude straight away," he went on in a growl, pulling on his coat. "Not to mention that a kiss and a kraken are a lot more effective." He got up and stalked toward the door. "Mr. Gibbs!" he yelled.

The first mate hurried over. "Aye, Captain?"

"Mrs. Turner is finally awake, and therefore I find I have a prodigious desire to be elsewhere. Take over here. I'll find Cotton and send him in."

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs said, coming in. Jack came back long enough to pick up his hat and shoot Elizabeth a black glare, before he headed out the door.

"Good morning to you, Mrs. Turner," Gibbs said with a smile. "Glad to see you and the wee one are doing so much better."

"Where is Jacob?" Elizabeth asked.

Gibbs bent and picked him up from the drawer, bouncing him a little. "Here he is, ma'am, and looking very bonnie for a child what was so ill and all," he said.

Elizabeth tried to take the baby, but couldn't hold him up. She handed him back. "Mr. Gibbs, what am I doing here?"

"Well, when Jack got that message in Tortuga 'bout you being ill, we sailed for Flimwell soon as we could. Found you and the baby nearly gone, so we did. We got you out of that house, cleaned you both up a bit, and brought you one board the _Pearl_, where you'd have people to help tend you and Cotton to look after you. He's had some doctor's trainin'."

"Midwife's too, apparently. What about my house?"

"Oh, Miss 'Lizabeth—pardon me, Mrs. Turner—you know we can't stay there longer than a night or so. And beggin' your pardon, but your house weren't fit for human habitation."

"What's wrong with my house?"

"To try and put it delicately, Mrs. Turner—it was pretty obvious that no one had been to tend you during your illness for more'n a week." His nose wrinkled at the memory.

"Oh." Elizabeth colored at the implication.

"So would you like to get some more sleep, now that you don't need warm bodies with you anymore? Or shall I bring you some nice hot broth?"

"What do you mean 'warm bodies'? What, exactly, was Jack doing in bed with me?" Her anger rose again.

"Aye, I did wonder about that meself when I came in to check on you in the night—especially after Jack had us string up a hammock for him and everything. But he said Cotton told him to do it, 'cause you couldn't get warm. So he took one side o' you, and he put little Jake on the other side, to help warm you up, and so's if he got hungry you'd be right there handy—if you'll pardon my mentioning it."

"He was keeping me warm?" Elizabeth asked, heart sinking.

"Aye. He said it was either him or Cotton, as I had me duties and there wasn't anyone else he'd trust alone with you. He figured you'd wake up a bit less startled if it was him than Cotton—at least Jack is someone ye know and trust."

Elizabeth's heart sank. "Apparently not as well as I ought," she said to herself.

There was a knock at the door.

"That'll be Cotton," Gibbs said. He opened it. "C'mon in, mate. She's awake."

Mr. Cotton came in and nodded at Elizabeth. He shivered and pointed at her with his eyebrows raised.

"No, I'm not cold now," she said.

He came nearer and pulled up a chair near Jack's bed. He leaned forward and felt her forehead and cheeks. He used his hands to mime opening his mouth, (sparing her the sight of his maimed tongue, for which she was grateful). Elizabeth opened hers and put out her tongue.

Cotton shook his head. He reached under the bed and pulled out the chamber pot. It was empty. He looked at her.

"I—I think I do need to," she answered, red-faced.

"I'll just step out a moment, shall I?" Gives murmured.

Elizabeth try to sit up too fast; her head spun, and she collapsed back down in the bed, blinking at the black spots in her vision. Cotton made an "easy, now" gesture and help her sit up slowly. He placed the pot on the chair he had been sitting in, and helped her place herself on it. When she was finished, she needed his help to stand up and pivot back into the bed. Once there, she flopped back down and lay there trembling, sweating and pale from the effort of getting out of bed for less than a minute. She was vaguely aware of Cotton's opening the stern window and emptying the pot. She felt completely, utterly spent, just from sitting up long enough to use the chamber pot.

Just how sick was she, anyway?

Cotton went and got the baby, dandling him on his knee while he examined him. He was thorough, even rolling up some parchment into a tube to listen to the baby's heartbeat and lungs. He shook his head and sighed. Elizabeth thought that if he'd had a tongue, he would be clucking it.

He came and put the baby on the bed next to her, where she lay pale and drained. He made an apologetic gesture and then opened the top of her nightgown and started to palpate her breasts.

"This had better be medical," she warned, "because if not, I'm going to kill you when I get well—ouch!" He had hit a tender spot. He gave her an amused look.

"Ouch! Ow! Ow!" He hit several tender spots. He lifted up the blankets and examined the skin on her thighs and lower back. He took the rolled-up parchment and pressed it against her chest, listening. He rolled her over easily and listened to her lungs in several places. Still frowning in thought, he helped her roll back. Then he went over to Jack's desk and started writing. When he was finished, he brought the parchment to her but although she noted that his penmanship was lovely, she couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to read it. Cotton chuckled and went back to writing while Elizabeth drifted back to sleep.

When Gibbs came back in, Cotton asked him in gestures where the captain was. Gibbs said he was at the helm, so Cotton nodded, gathered a couple of parchment, and went up to talk to the captain. Gibbs took a seat in the cabin, took out his knife, and started to clean his nails.

Cotton climbed up to talk to the captain. He nodded to him and handed him the parchments, taking the wheel at the captain's order. Jack read the first one.

_For the mother_

_For nutrition: broth, milk, water, as much as possible, for at least three days. On fourth day, may add some bread to broth. Add some soft fruit and meat after at least five days, assuming mother is doing well so far._

_For lactation: cabbage leaves for swelling and inflammation. Also, mother _must_ nurse child as often as possible. _

_For bed-sores and skin afflictions: must turn over in bed as often as possible; also must bathe or soak in clean seawater at least twice per day until sores heal. _

_For general health: must have sunlight and fresh air as much as possible. Very weak; cannot be left alone for at least a week. Illness has exhausted reserves of energy; should not attempt to care for self & baby unassisted for at least six weeks. Better eight._

_For the baby_

_For nutrition: must nurse as often as possible_

_For skin afflictions: seawater baths or soaking; remove nappy whenever possible to let the area air_

_For general health: sunlight and fresh air_

_Baby ought to be sitting up and awake most of the day by now; however, illness has weakened it severely. Expect rapid improvement once it recovers from starvation._

"Cabbage leaves for swelling?" Jack asked. Cotton pointed toward his own nipples. Jack got it. "Huh. Never heard of that one." He read on. "Six to eight weeks?" he muttered.

Cotton nodded decisively.

"I did think it would take a while to rebuild her strength," Jack said. "Eight weeks, though. Have to think about that one." He sighed. "If we must, we must. I really don't fancy the _Flying Dutchman_ turning up and me having to explain to her captain why we let his wife die, do you?"

Cotton blanched and shook his head violently.

"All right, Mr Cotton. I'll see to this, and I'll have Gibbs rearrange the duty roster so's you can help tend them. Go relieve Gibbs and tell him to get some sleep. I'll come at lunchtime to relieve you, and I'll bring some broth and milk for her."

Cotton nodded and went back below. Jack hollered for the cabin boy.

The boy ran up. "Sir?"

"Have the cook make up some good broth, and tell Ragetti to milk the goat."

Elizabeth never heard Cotton come back in, nor Gibbs leave yawning. She slept straight through until lunch, when the sound of the door opening and closing woke her. She recognized Jack's step and kept her eyes closed.

"How is she?" She heard Jack asked someone. There was no reply, so she concluded that Cotton must be there.

"Still sleeping? What about the baby?" There was a pause, during which Cotton must have pointed to where little Jacob had been nursing while she was asleep. "Lunchtime all round, eh?" She could hear the smile in his voice. He went on. "Is she going to be able to talk soon? We have to decide what to do. (pause) Gibbs was at the helm all night, stood my watch as well as his, so we'll let him sleep a while longer. (pause) Will she be all right to sleep alone tonight, do you think? (pause) Oh, no, mate, I've me hammock over there. She just wasn't too pleased to wake up with me in her bed. Not sure she would have found you much of an improvement, though." His voice hardened as he continued, "And I'm here to tell you that _her_ death threats are no mere empty promises. Go on up to the helm, now. I left Pintel up there, and I'm not sure as he can tell the difference between a wave and a rock."

Jack came over to the bed and touched her head again, to feel for fever. Elizabeth kept her eyes closed. "Hey, Master Jake," Jack greeted the suckling babe quietly. Jacob detached himself and began to roll over. "Whoa, now," Jack said. "Careful, you almost fell off the bed." Elizabeth felt him lift the baby off the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover her again. "There, now. Can't have your mum waking up and trying to kill me again, now, can we? 'S a bad habit we must try to break her of, mustn't we? I'm sure it isn't good for her."

Elizabeth heard him moving around the room, and she heard the rustle of cloth. "Wet," Jack complained playfully. "Wet again!" When he finished changing the baby, he went to the door and opened it. "Send Marty here," she heard him say. Marty apparently came running, and she heard Jack order him to "Take the baby out on deck for an airing."

Then she heard Jack approach again. He gave her shoulder a firm shake. "Wake up, Mrs Turner," he said coldly.

She opened her eyes and blinked up at him. "Jack."

"Lunch. Broth. Can you drink it?"

"I think so, if I can sit up."

He watched her struggle for a moment-every time she tried to sit up, she got lightheaded, and the muscles in her back and abdomen didn't seem to want to work-and finally grabbed her hand and pulled her upright. He handed her the cup of hot broth and braced a pillow behind her to help her stay upright. Then he withdrew behind his desk and sat down.

"Mr Gibbs came in and explained to me about this morning, Jack," she told him. "What I was doing here, why you were sleeping with me-that it was for the body heat. I guess I shouldn't have been so angry with you."

"Think nothing of it, Mrs Turner. No harm done." His voice was distant.

"I suppose not," Elizabeth said slowly, with a frown.

Jack busied himself with his charts for a few minutes. "Cotton says you ought to be well enough to go home in a couple of days," he said without looking at her. "As long as you have someone to look after you. Maybe hire a couple of girls from the village."

"Can't wait to get rid of me, eh?" She tried to joke.

The joke fell flat. Jack just gave her another dark look. "Vice versa, I should think," he muttered to himself. Finally he finished what he was doing at the desk and stood up. "Marty will be in here this afternoon, and Cotton is going to be staying in here with you tonight," he said. "If you need anything, let them know." He left before she could say a word.

Elizabeth lay back and dozed until Marty came in with little Jacob. He was looking sleepy after all that fresh air, and Marty put him back into the drawer. "Need anything, Mrs Turner?" Marty asked.

Elizabeth was still feeling sleepy too. "No, thank you, Marty."

When she awoke, the sun was setting. Cotton was there and Marty was gone. Cotton had brought her some more milk and broth. The broth was rich and meaty, and the goat's milk was warm but fresh, and she drank them down thirstily. Cotton helped her use the chamber pot again, and shrugged off her apology for his having to clean her up afterwards. He brought her the baby, who was just waking up hungry. While she nursed Jacob, Cotton carried in a bucket of seawater and used a rag to dab at the sores she had been developing. When the baby was finished eating, Cotton stripped him off and plunked him right into the bucket. After a few seconds of fussing, Jacob started splashing and laughing.

"Is that for his rash?" Elizabeth asked. "The seawater?"

Cotton nodded. He brought over the baby-in-a-bucket so Elizabeth could play with him for a few minutes, then noticed her eyelids getting heavy. He tucked her in and with a peremptory gesture, ordered her to go to sleep. She was vaguely aware of his drying off the baby and walking around with him for a few minutes before she fell asleep again.

In the morning, Cotton examined them both again, thoroughly, and nodded his head.

"Jack tells me we'll be able to go home soon?" she asked him.

He made a moue of disapproval, and shook his head. He gave her to understand that she would have to ask the captain about that. Elizabeth stifled her laugh at his spot-on imitation of Jack.

"Talk to the captain? Love to. He doesn't seem to want to talk to me, though."

Cotton shrugged, collected his bucket, and left. Marty came in soon after, with more broth. Elizabeth was starting to get sick of broth.

She didn't see Jack at all the rest of the day. She slept for much of it, waking only to drink more broth and milk, and to feed her son. Gibbs came in at the end of his watch and greeted her. He took off his boots and reclined in the hammock. "You be sure and wake me if you need anything, Mrs Turner," he said. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr Gibbs."

Gibbs fell asleep instantly and snored loudly. Elizabeth couldn't fall asleep. At some point during the night, Jacob woke up and started crying. Gibbs didn't stir. The baby cried harder. Elizabeth threw back the covers and tried to get her feet untangled from them. Finally she got them on the floor and tried to stand. Her head spun and her legs refused to hold her up, and she fell with a cry as the room spun around her and started to darken around the edges.

Suddenly Jack was there, lifting her off the floor and back onto the bed. "Lie down," he ordered.

She curled up on her side while Jack got the baby and brought him over to her. He placed the baby on the bed next to her and scowled when she struggled to sit up.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I need to feed my child, Jack!" Elizabeth had always sat up to nurse him, and had never tried to do it lying down.

Jack apparently had other ideas. He pushed her back down and indicated the ties at the front of her nightgown. "Think you can manage those on your own, Mrs. Turner, or shall I call someone else in to help you? Pintel, perhaps? It's either that or I have to be in the bed with you, to hold the baby, and we already know how much you hate that!"

"What?" Sleepy and confused, Elizabeth fumbled with the ties. Pintel? What on earth was he talking about?

Jack watched for a moment and then with a very put-upon sigh, before she could even react, he untied the gown and spread it wide open, uncovering her breasts completely.

She gasped in shock and covered herself up. Jack picked up the child and brought him to her. "Move 'em," he ordered. Elizabeth slowly moved her hands, uncovering her breasts again. Jack put the baby down next to her, rolling her over to face him and making sure the baby was suckling before he moved away. His hand brushed her breast—by accident, she was sure—and she flinched.

He straightened up immediately. "You know me, Mrs. Turner, always taking advantage of women." His tone was sarcastic and he did not look at her, but went back over to his desk. He glared at Gibbs, still asleep and snoring in Jack's hammock. "Bloody useless oaf," he muttered. He sat down in his chair and leaned back, apparently dozing off.

Elizabeth did not know what to say. She had never seen Jack upset like this before and was quite taken aback.

He woke up when Jacob had finished nursing, changed him, and put him back in his little drawer. Then he turned around and stalked out, only stopping to give Gibbs a kick on the way out.

Gibbs woke up. "Need anything, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked.

She smiled sadly. "No, thank you, Mr. Gibbs."


	7. Restoration

Elizabeth finally went to sleep, but her sleep was fitful, with unpleasant dreams. In the morning, Cotton came in and Gibbs went out. Cotton examined her and Jacob again, nodding cautiously at their improvement. As soon as he was finished, she went back to sleep.

Cotton brought her some lunch, and Gibbs stayed with her until supper, while she dozed on and off.

Marty brought supper. More broth. This broth had a few pieces of bread crumbled into it. Elizabeth tried to be excited about the novelty.

"Evening, Mrs Turner," the small man greeted cheerfully. "Everything all right with young Jake, here?" He picked up the baby and shook the rattle at him.

"Evening, Marty. What are you doing here? I thought you were on dog-watch tonight?"

"Oh, captain re-ordered the watch. He's taking mine tonight."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Marty shrugged. "Who knows why Captain Jack does anything?"

"Good point," Elizabeth agreed.

They shared a fond smile over how odd Jack could be, and then Marty went on. "Aye, as long's he shares the loot an' don't beat us, I do what he says."

"I see."

"He took part of Mr Gibbs' watch last night, and spelled Cotton this morning, and he's taking mine tonight."

"Good Lord, when does he sleep?"

"In between times, I guess. I brought little Jake down to the crew quarters to see him yesterday, and we showed Jake all around below decks. I wouldn't 've thought Captain would like children, but it's kind of nice to see him talkin' to little Jake, an' playin' wiv him an' all."

"I wouldn't know," Elizabeth said acidly. "I've hardly seen Captain Sparrow for days."

"Have ye not? Well, he's been awful busy covering our shifts so's Mr Gibbs, Cotton, and me can be in here watching over you since you don't want 'im doing it."

"What's that?" Elizabeth was startled.

"Oh, he told us we were the only ones 'e trusted to be in 'ere with you, and since you didn't trust 'im here, we three would 'ave to take care of you."

Didn't trust him? Elizabeth wondered. Then she remembered her fury at waking up with him in her bed and assuming the worst—perhaps she had overreacted? She must have hurt his feelings; he had been acting awfully cold toward her on those few instances when he did come in. Perhaps an apology was in order.

"Marty, would you mind seeing if he could come down here for a few minutes? I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Jack showed up less than ten minutes later. "Something you need, Mrs Turner?" he asked, expressionless.

"Why did you tell the others I don't trust you?" she asked in a conversational tone. "And stop calling me that."

"Because, _Mrs Turner_, you made it painfully clear the other morning that you do not. I've tried to accommodate your wishes in only keeping people around you that are trustworthy—but then again, they're only trustworthy in my eyes, and since I'm not trustworthy in yours, perhaps you feel they're a danger to you as well. If that's the case, well, you'll just have to suffer through it."

"I was startled, that's all. And I told you, Mr Gibbs explained it to me."

Jack gave her a bitter smile. "But your first automatic assumption was that I was up to no good. It was like a reflex." The smile faded and his brows drew together. "You threatened to kill me. You were reaching for your dagger even after you knew it was me. Forgive me if I take that seriously coming from you."

"Oh, Jack," she started to say, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"No, shut it. You listen to me, _Mrs Turner_. First time we met, I saved your life. Could have killed you. Could have killed Will. Didn't. Then Will and I rescued you from Barbossa, and you and Will went off on your merry way and left me behind with Barbossa, who was all set to kill me until I told him I knew whose blood he needed. And then later, when he marooned you and me together, did I take advantage of you at all? I did not. Not even when I was drunk.

"After that, I ferried you all over the Caribbean looking for William when you asked me to—and yeah, our goals coincided at that point, so of course that automatically made me suspect. Couldn't possibly be looking out for anyone else's interests but my own, could I? I confess, I had a weak moment when I tried to get away from the kraken and the _Pearl_, but I came back. You were right—I had my one moment of wanting to be a good man, and what was my reward? A Judas kiss, and then I'm chained up defenseless for the monster.

"And yeah, you came to get me from the Locker afterwards. _After_ the monster with the thousand teeth _ate me up_! Ta very much, though I notice it was _my _ship what had to bring us back. I made a deal with Beckett so's you'd be safe, and in return you traded me for Will and gave me to Davy Jones. _He's_ the blighter who sent me the monster with a thousand teeth in the first place, and _you_ gave him another go at me.

"In return, I voted to make you Pirate King. I gave up my chance at immortality so's you could keep your beloved William. He couldn't go ashore, so I visited you at Flimwell, brought you things you asked for, made sure you were all right. I've respected your marriage, Mrs Turner. Not once have I _ever _made a move on you ortried to steal you away from your husband. I've said some things to you, yeah, but only in jest and you know it. Will is my friend. So are you. I thought you were mine, as well. Turns out you think I'm such a depraved lecher that I'd seduce a sick, married woman with her baby in the same bed. If that's what you think, then I'm sure you're right not to trust me. And death threats from you are serious matters for me, so I've kept out of your way."

Elizabeth sat there stunned on the edge of the bed—Jack's bed, which he had given up for her. She had never thought about how many times Jack had saved her life, protected her, helped her, and sacrificed what he wanted for her sake. He had proven his friendship time and time again, and she had taken him completely for granted. She had usually assumed the worst of him in any circumstance, and now she was beginning to realize that she may have damaged one of the most important friendships of her life.

She hoped it wasn't too late to fix.

She stood up on shaky legs and made her way to his chair, where he sat sideways at the desk. Dropping to her knees beside it, she said, "Jack, you're right. I am so sorry for what I said. I have every reason to trust you." She looked up at his profile—he had turned his face away from her—and her voice caught and she felt her eyes begin to sting. "You're my best friend, Jack. Is there any chance we can just write off what I said that morning as the delirious ravings of a sick woman? Is there anything I can do? What can I do to make this right between us again?"

"I don't know, Elizabeth," he said seriously, with none of his hand-flailing or dramatic gestures. "You string me along for months, making me think we're friends and all, and next thing I know you're pulling a dagger on me after I saved your life. You're a damned confusing woman, you know that?" He still didn't look at her, and his profile looked sad.

She laughed a little, but in an instant her laughing turned into crying in earnest. "Jack, I'm sorry about the dagger, and I'm sorry about what I said, and I am so, so sorry for leaving you to the kraken. I was terrified, and I kept telling myself that leaving you there was the only way—but Jack, I am so sorry for it!" She bowed her head and clung to his leg like she had once before, when he had returned to the _Pearl _to save them from the kraken.

"Here, now," Jack said, stroking her matted hair. Elizabeth cried harder at the gentle tone in his voice that she hadn't heard from him in days. "You went and got me, didn't you?"

"Yes, but you're right—I shouldn't have chained you up like that."

"Darling, I like to think I would have stayed anyway, but in all honesty I can't be sure. I _can_ be sure that if I hadn't, the kraken would have killed all of you along with me. Anyway, I got free in time to meet it with me sword in hand, so I think we're all right on that one."

She wiped her face and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you, Jack." It was nice to hear _darling_ again, after hearing his teeth-gritted _Mrs Turner_ for days.

He went on stroking her hair, as if he had forgotten that he was doing it. She didn't remind him. It felt very good. "Thought you weren't sorry," he said quietly.

"Not for the kiss, no!" she said. "I'm sorry for the rest of it."

Jack was startled into a laugh. "We won't tell ol' Will you said that," he promised. "Come on up here, love—you hadn't ought to be on the floor when you're ill." He lifted her up into the chair next to his.

"Can you forgive me, Jack?"

"You'll owe me a really _big_ favor, but I expect I will eventually. Except maybe for the kiss. I take exception to that."

"What?" she cried in outrage.

He looked wounded. "Aye! You kiss me like I'm your last hope of heaven, you rescue me from hell, and next thing I know you're married to dear old William. That hurt my pride, it did. Kissing me couldn't have been so bad that you had to run right out and marry some other bloke, could it? Didn't even give me a chance to try again."

"I did!" she protested. "You turned it down.'Once was quite enough,' if I recall correctly." She imitated his waggling fingers as she spoke.

"You'd already married him by that point, dearie," he pointed out. "I did say I respected your marriage, did I not?"

"You mean you would have kissed me then, if I hadn't married Will?"

He grinned. "In a heartbeat. And darling, if I _had_ kissed you, you wouldn't have married dear William at all."

"Oh, so I should have held out for my shipboard 'mar-i-age' with you, then? Like you would actually have gone through with it," she scoffed.

"You'll never know now, will you? You'll always wonder whether or not you were the one woman who could have tamed old Jack from his wicked, wild ways!"

"I'm sure I shall lie awake every night, wondering," she told him with a straight face.

"Well, don't let your sleeplessness over it keep _me _awake," he told her. "I hate sleeping with the crew. As long as you're not going to kill me again, I'm sleeping here tonight." He stood and helped her to stand, but before she went back to bed, she slid her arms around him and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.

She must have surprised him; his hands made a couple of feints, brief butterfly-touches to her shoulders before they finally settled on her back and he drew her close to him.

It felt good. She could feel his warm, lean body, the strength in his shoulders and back, and the security of having his arms around her. It had been so very, very long since she had been touched at all, except by her son, that she felt her throat choking up. She started to tremble, and he stroked her back a little.

"'Lizabeth?" he asked softly. "You all right, love?"

She nodded against his shoulder, but was not able to completely stifle that one sob that had been welling up in her throat. She muffled it against his shoulder, but her whole body was shaking, and her hands clenched into fists, clutching handfuls of his shirt in back.

"Hush, now," he whispered. Elizabeth felt his lips in her hair. "'S no need to cry, love. I'm here, and I'll take care of you until you can take care of yourself again."

"It's not that," Elizabeth told him, gasping as she tried to control her breathing and stop crying. "I mean, thank you, and I'm grateful. But it's just that—oh, you'll think the worse of me."

Jack laughed a little; she could feel his chest vibrate with it. "Darling, you've fed me to a monster before. I very much doubt you can shock me with anything you say."

Elizabeth laughed in turn, for a moment. "It's just that… it feels _so good_ to be touched." Her face blazed scarlet, and she instantly released him. "Oh, my, I didn't mean for it to sound so…"

"Relax, Lizzie," Jack said. He felt around for a handkerchief, didn't find one, and picked up the end of his sash to dry her face. "I know you miss your husband. 'S nothing to be ashamed of, love."

"But I ought not to be seeking touches from other men!" Elizabeth protested. Her legs were feeling weak, and she grabbed Jack's forearms to hold herself up.

"Here, let's get you back into bed, eh?" Jack said, lowering her gently. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. "Love, if that's the way you look at it, then you ought not to sleep in another man's bed, nor have him sleep with you to keep you warm, nor ought you be having other men look after you when you're ill, sleeping in the same room and all. However, you've been alone for a couple of years, and you're recovering from one of the worst bouts with Influenza I've ever seen anyone live through. I think your current scandalous circumstances ought to be mitigated by that. Give yourself a break. Getting a hug from a friend when you need one doesn't seem that dire, if you ask me."

"No, I suppose not," she replied as he helped her lie down and covered her up again. She smiled up at him, a small, tremulous smile.

He gave her hand a squeeze and lifted it briefly to his lips. "Good night, Lizzie." He blew out the lamp.

She heard the hammock across the room creak as he sat down in it, heard the thud, thud of his boots hitting the floor. His sword and pistol came next, and she chuckled at the quiet "Bugger!" that accompanied a jingling sound; his sword belt must have got caught up in his hair. The quiet clank of his belts as he took them off came next, followed by a deep sigh as he leaned back and relaxed in his hammock.

She barely heard Marty come back in, or his brief, quiet conversation with Jack, or the door close as he left again, leaving her alone in the room with Jack.

She drifted off to sleep, soothed by the sound of his breathing.


	8. Family

Elizabeth found Jack infinitely easier to share a cabin with than either Gibbs or Marty. He didn't snore or flop about, and he woke up when she needed help with Jacob. He even walked the floor with the baby, to quieten him after his feeding. He treated her feedings with matter-of-factness, helping her when she needed it, and offering her as much privacy as he could when she didn't need help. He stepped out for her to use the chamber pot (which she was grateful to finally be able to do by herself) and made no demur about emptying it for her after she had collapsed into bed again, exhausted.

In the morning, he sent in Cotton for the usual examinations and update. He brought her a brimming mug of fresh milk and urged her to drink it. Elizabeth sighed. She was hungry. "I swear, the next person who brings me in milk or broth will get it thrown at them! When I can I get some real food, Mr Cotton?"

He held up two fingers and then wiggled his thumb back and forth.

"Two, three, two... Oh, two or three days?" she asked.

He nodded.

She growled. "I'm hungry! I'm sure I'm well enough now to have some meat or fruit or _something_!"

He shrugged apologetically and left in a hurry.

The cabin boy came in next, and introduced himself. "Captain says I'm to stay with you until lunch, ma'am. Name is Simon. Is there anything I can get you?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Hello, Simon. I'm Mrs Turner. I would love some fruit if you could get me some."

Simon shook his head, looking sad. "Mr. Cotton says no fruit for two more days. I'm sorry, Mrs Turner, ma'am."

Elizabeth growled. "Mr. Cotton is being unreasonable. I ought to know what I am capable of eating, I should think."

Simon looked uncomfortable, but said nothing. Elizabeth shook her head in frustration and started playing with her baby to pass the time. Jacob had been sleeping even more than she had, and it was not long before his eyelids were getting heavy again. With a sigh, she put him back into his little dresser drawer for a nap.

She had started to be able to stay up a little longer during the day, and last night was the most restful sleep she'd had since boarding the _Pearl,_ but she was hungry and bored.

Hungry and bored were not a good combination for Elizabeth, and when combined for long periods of time, often resulted in irritation. When poor little Simon brought her a cup of broth for lunch, she hurled it back at him. He ducked in a panic, and it hit the door frame just as Jack was walking in. He jerked his thumb for Simon to get out of there, and the boy scurried.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Jack told her drily. "Perhaps next time you could go easy on my poor cabin boy? Don't threw soup at the messenger."

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, but I'm just _so_ hungry! And _so_ bored!"

"And _oh_-so-testy as well, it seems." He picked up the empty mug and set it on the table. "You're rebuilding your strength after a very bad illness, Lizzie. So you're going to drink your broth like a good girl, refrain from throwing it at anyone, and when the good Dr Cotton says you can have solid food, _then_ you can have solid food. Not before. Savvy?" He plunked down a mug of milk and pushed it across the table at her.

Elizabeth scowled at him.

"Really, you should thank me," Jack said.

She scowled harder.

"No? S'pose I'll have to do it." He pitched his voice in a wavery soprano and flawlessly imitated her posh accent. "Oh, thank you, Captain Sparrow, for taking such good care of me while I've been ill. You saved my life! Oh, Captain, you're a hero!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Saved my life? Aren't you exaggerating just a tad?"

Jack caught her gaze and shook his head seriously. "I'm afraid not, Lizzie. You nearly died. You and little Jake both. If we'd been even a few hours later, or a day later, I'd have lost you. _We__'d_ 've lost you," he corrected. "So yeah, I'm not letting you eat more than you're ready for, and I'm not letting you pick up your own baby, and I'm _bloody_ well not letting you out of my sight until you're more recovered. You'll just have to square with that."

He turned away to look out the window. He heard a quiet step behind him, and then felt Elizabeth take his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Jack," she said quietly, with no trace of sarcasm or irony. "You saved my life. You're a hero."

Jack chuckled a little and patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow. "Just see it doesn't happen again, eh, darling?"

"I'll try." She picked up the mug of milk and started drinking.

"Good. Not sure my heart could stand your being that ill again, and I'm pretty sure my cabin boy couldn't stand your recovery again!" He took her hand from his arm, made her a flamboyant bow to kiss her hand, and then ordered, "Finish your milk and back to bed with you."

"But Jack-"

"_Now_, Elizabeth."

She swallowed her protests along with the milk and went back to bed, glaring at him.

Less than five minutes later she was fast asleep. Jack looked up from his charts. "Told you so," he jeered quietly.

It took over a week before Elizabeth and Jacob were really on the mend. Jacob slept almost 'round the clock, except for when he was eating and being carried about the deck by one pirate or other. Elizabeth felt weak as a kitten at first, exhausted by simply moving about the cabin or going for brief constitutionals on deck, but towards the end of the week she was able to stay awake for several hours at a time.

Best of all, she'd been allowed to have some fruit. She thought nothing could ever taste as good as that juicy, sun-ripened mango that Jack had brought her with a smile (which faded into a curiously intent expression when he watched her eat it, licking the juice off her fingers and moaning with delight).

Jack had been meandering the _Pearl,_ not to get too far away from Flimwell and yet evade the British Navy. He steered from tiny island to tiny island, in order to maintain a supply of fresh fruit and water for Elizabeth.

"Here's the thing," he said, bringing her a small plate of fruit-including, she was glad to see, some more mangoes. He set it down on the table and pulled out her chair so she could join him. "Ye're doing much better, but you can't stay by yerself quite yet-not an' look after little Jake at the same time.

He had asked her about returning to New Flimwell, whether or not she would be able to hire a couple of girls from the village to assist her. She had regretfully informed him that the only friend she had in the village was Mrs Thomas, the woman who had written to him—everyone else looked askance at her betrousered form and thought she was no better than she ought to be.

"I always wore dresses into town, but one time someone came up the hill and saw me hauling water in my trousers, and the word spread all through town. The respectable families wouldn't let their daughters associate with me. Some of them claim that I'm not even married, as I don't have a husband living with me. So no help there, I'm afraid," she said.

"If we hired a girl from—you know—_our_ circles—"

"A pirate or a port doxy, you mean?"

"Aye," he said, looking uncomfortable. "If we hire from among our own circles, she wouldn't be dependable and would probably rob you blind. If we hire a nice, respectable, dependable girl, she'll turn you in as a pirate."

He sighed. So did she.

"Pity you don't still have any family left in Port Royal," he mused.

"I do have family, actually," Elizabeth remembered. "My Aunt Agatha, my father's sister, wrote me ages ago that she was coming to live with me in Port Royale. I got the letter, but couldn't write back. I didn't have any way to reach her without getting caught. I've been keeping track of her, and I know she's looking for me. Maybe she'd be willing to come live with me in Flimwell." Elizabeth laughed a little. "Might even raise my respectability level there, having a rich, widowed aunt move in."

"Aye, but would she turn you in?"

"I doubt it. I'm the only family she has left."

"Right, then. We'll make for Port Royale and pick her up."

"Just like that? At least let me write to her first!"

"No, no time. Or, more accurately, can't be bothered. I'll just nip into town, find her, and nab her.

"Jack, you can't just waltz in and kidnap my aunt!"

"Of course I can, love. Did you forget who I am? I'm Captain Jack—"

"Spare me. Did you forget who _I_ am, _love_? Not only the Pirate King—"

"Compliments of yours truly," Jack interrupted, pointing at himself.

"—But also the only relative of the lady you're proposing to kidnap!"

Jack held up a finger. "I am disposed to make one slight compromise."

Elizabeth gestured impatiently for him to go on.

"I will refrain from kidnapping your aunt—if you do it."

"What? You're joking!"

"Dead serious, darling."

"Kidnap my own aunt?"

"You do it or I will."

Elizabeth huffed. "Fine. Take us to Port Royale and I'll see what I can do."

* * *

_Note: I need a beta for this story. Not for mechanics, spelling, grammar, etc. - I pretty much have a handle on those. But I need someone to run my ideas past, to tell me "No, I would leave that part out," or "Hey, how about putting in this other thing?" and to help out with general content. This is my first story in this fandom, so I don't know anyone here yet, and my other beta from the Harry Potter 'verse can't help me with it. Surely some kind soul out there would be able to offer feedback, for the noble cause of my getting this story finished and published sooner? It's about 85% finished, but the remaining 15% or so are causing me trouble. Let me know if you're interested, and thank you! Cheers, CL_


	9. Acquiring Aunt Agatha

Agatha Ainsley-Swann had been a widow for fifteen years. She had been her husband's doorway into Society, being of significantly higher station than he, but he was rich. Even though he'd had the ill fortune to earn his fortune in trade instead of inheriting it like a respectable person does, her family had considered Horace Ainsley a good match. Horace had been only too glad to add the "Swann" to his name for the sake of the doors it opened for him in Society.

Agatha's niece had written over a year ago with the sad news of Weatherby Swann's death. Agatha had stayed in London for a while, typing up loose ends, letting the house and arranging her will, and then had set sail for the Caribbean to join little Elizabeth.

She had been putting off such a move for months, fearing the dangers of travel on the high seas-but a few months before, she had been robbed by a highwayman right in the center of London! At that point she decided she had nothing to lose by going. Elizabeth might need her.

Not to mention that the robbery was the most exciting thing to happen to her in decades, and she rather thought she ought to get out of London before she got too old for travel and excitement at all. So she had come to Port Royale, but had not found Elizabeth. She heard wild rumors and stories of her niece's whereabouts and activities—getting engaged to a blacksmith's apprentice, of all things, and then worse, getting arrested for piracy! Agatha put little stock in the rumors she heard, but secretly she knew that Elizabeth's real story would very likely be almost as interesting. Elizabeth rarely went looking for trouble, but Agatha knew that from the time her niece was a little girl, she was just the sort of person that _things happened to._

At any rate, she resolved to stay in Port Royale until she got word of her niece. She had found a house, hired a staff, and was enjoying the tropical climate of Jamaica exceedingly, after a lifetime of cold, grey drizzle in England. The change in climate had made her feel younger than her 65 years, and she had made friends with both the new governor of Port Royale, and with the commander of the fort, Commodore Eustace Gilbert. Commodore Gilbert was an older man with a shock of silver hair and a demeanor that made you think he had once led a more exciting life than his current situation would indicate. Still, he was handsome and charming, and she enjoyed his company—along with the governor and his wife's—every Thursday evening for cards.

This particular Thursday, their card game was interrupted by the butler. He cleared his throat gently. "Pardon the intrusion, madam, but there is a... young… person... at the door who gave me this note for you. He said it was extremely urgent." He held out a silver letter tray that was currently contaminated by a crumpled, stained bit of parchment.

Agatha smoothed out the note with a frown. "Pray excuse me," she said to her guests, and went out into the hallway to read it.

_Dear Aunt Agatha,_

_I hope you are well, and I am sorry for not being able to see you in Port Royale. This is the first chance I have had to get word to you safely. I need your help, if you could see fit to accompany the bearer of this letter on a short journey by sea. He'll wait for you by the door. You will be perfectly safe, but if you tell anyone you heard from me, I may not be. Please hurry, dear aunt! I can't wait to see you. _

_All my love,_

_Elizabeth_

Agatha's hand flew to her heart. Elizabeth, in danger? She lifted her chin, called the butler back, and returned to the drawing room.

"I beg your forgiveness, friends, but a matter has arisen which requires my immediate attention," she told her guests. "Feel free to stay and complete the game, but I must go. I hope to return soon with good news!"

With that, she ducked back out and explained to the butler that she would have to take a short trip. If she was gone longer than a week, he was to close the house and only keep a skeleton staff. She directed him to have the bearer of the note wait for her. Then she ran up the stairs calling for her ladies' maid. With her help, Agatha slipped on a comfortable travel dress, threw some more clothes into a bag, and put on some walking shoes.

Then she was ready. Not 15 minutes after getting the note, she was slipping quietly out the side door to meet this curious person that her butler had mentioned. He was young, a sailor by the look of him. Small and slight, and he wore his hair in a long queue hanging down in back. He looked to be about 16 or 17.

"'Ello, missus," he greeted her, touching his hat respectfully.

"Please, will you take me to my niece? Is she all right?" Agatha asked.

"Right as rain, but it's best not to linger 'ere, missus. Come wiv me an' you'll see 'er soon!"

The lad lead her through darkened streets and alleys toward the docks. He helped her get into a longboat, tossing her bag to the long-haired man who was sitting there waiting for them. The boy untied the boat and pushed off from the dock, and the long-haired man started rowing.

"Who are you people?" Agatha asked them both.

"Hush, ma'am. Best not to talk here," the man replied softly, breathless with the effort of the rowing. "Sound carries over water."

"We'll make all the introductions when we get to the ship," the boy said to Agatha quietly.

"Any problems?" the rowing man asked the boy in a low voice.

"None. I gave the lady 'er niece's note and she came right down," the boy replied with a note of—was that triumph in his voice?

The rowing man grunted, seeming a little sour. "I could've done that."

"We made a deal," the boy replied. "Now hurry up, will you? Need any help rowing?"

"Not from _you_," the man replied sourly. Agatha got the impression that the rowing man was glaring at the boy in the dark. They must be brothers, she thought, remembering with a sad smile how she and Weatherby used to argue.

Agatha could begin to see the dark outline of the ship they were heading towards. "Is that where my niece is?"

The boy nodded. "She lives on another island near here, but she traveled on this ship to meet you." The other man said nothing, but showed his glittering gold teeth in a grin. Agatha shuddered—he seemed a little sinister, somehow, even as he reminded her of someone she couldn't place.

There were people waiting for them at the ship. One bluff, hearty voice called down, "I'm lowering a rope, ma'am—just you put your foot in the loop and hold on tight, and we'll pull you up in a trice. Save you having to climb up the side, see?"

Agatha did see, and was grateful; she doubted she could have made it up the side in her skirts.

The boy and the man climbed up quickly, but the boy stopped at the top and leaned against the railing, panting. The long-haired man stopped and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and said something that Agatha couldn't hear. The lad nodded.

"Mrs Ainsley-Swann, welcome aboard," the hearty-sounding man said with a smile, helping her disentangle herself from the rope.

The long-haired man who had rowed the boat handed him Agatha's bag and spoke. "Madam, I know you want to see your niece, and you shall—tomorrow morning. She's been unwell, and she needs her sleep. As, no doubt, do you. Mr Gibbs, will you show the lady to her cabin? Good night, ma'am." The captain disappeared with the boy, leaving Agatha behind on the deck with the friendly, bewhiskered man who had hauled her up from the boat.

"Aye, Captain," Mr Gibbs said to the captain's departing back, holding Agatha's bag over his shoulder. "Right this way, ma'am. I'm Joshamee Gibbs, the first mate. 'Tis my cabin you'll be using, so if you need anything, you be sure and let me know."

"I thank you, Mr Gibbs, for both your kindness and your hospitality," she replied sweetly. She could have sworn he actually blushed a little in the dim light of the lantern he held. "That man—I think he is the captain?—said my niece has been unwell?"

"Aye, but she's much improved. I daresay she'll be very glad to see you at breakfast."

Agatha smiled. The mate opened the door of his cabin, a small, utilitarian room, and nodded to her. "We're running dark at the moment," he explained apologetically, "So you'll just have a candle tonight. If you need anything, just come out on deck and tell whoever's on watch to come find me."

Agatha thanked him sincerely, bid him good night, and went straight to bed.

* * *

Jack had done all of the rowing, but he could see the trip had still taken it out of Elizabeth. As soon as she reached the deck, she had to lean against the side to keep from falling. He put his hand on her shoulder and spoke to her quietly so that her aunt wouldn't hear. "You go straight to bed, love. See her tomorrow."

Too tired to argue, Elizabeth only nodded. Jack sent her aunt away with Mr. Gibbs and walked Elizabeth back to his cabin.

"Need help undressing?" he asked, for once not sounding flirtatious, but serious.

Elizabeth took it as such. "Boots," she said, collapsing on his bed. Jack pulled off her boots for her and, when she made no further move, reached over and undid the flies of her breeches.

"Pull 'em off or I will," he warned. Elizabeth didn't budge, so Jack closed his eyes and pulled them off her. Her shirt was a typical sailor's shirt, and it came halfway down to her knees. Jack opened one eye with trepidation, but the shirt covered her nether regions and he sighed in relief... and a little bit of disappointment as he opened his other eye.

"Come on, love, off with the waistcoat," he encouraged. "And just because I'm a generous man, I'll let you sleep in the shirt."

"Thanks ever so," came her faint but sarcastic reply as he pulled her arms out of the waistcoat, and he grinned.

"There, now," he said softly, pulling the blankets up over her. "Your baby is fine, and your aunt is safely on board, and you'll see her in the morning. Sleep well, darling."

She mumbled an incoherent reply and he chuckled. He ducked back out long enough to make sure that Cotton had the ship pointed towards New Flimwell, then he came back in and stripped down for bed himself. He climbed into his hammock on the other side of the room and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

_Note: Two points to anyone who recognizes Aunt Agatha! Also, please remember to review-it's the only way I know anyone is even reading this! Many thanks to the people who have commented already. You have no idea how much I appreciate it, especially because reviews seem to be so scarce in this fandom. I have written fanfic for 9 other fandoms, and their fans tend to be much more vocal. So if you like this or hate it, please let me know and tell me why. Thank you!_


	10. Recognition, Part 1

The next morning Agatha woke up feeling unusually rested. She attributed that to the gentle rocking motion of the ship. She got up and dressed herself and was just putting up her hair when there was a knock at the door.

It was the same boy who had come to get her the night before. "Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully. "I've come to take you to breakfast!"

"Oh, thank you, young man," Agatha replied, a little startled at the change in his accent. Last night he had sounded, well, like a sailor, and this morning he sounded quite upper crust and educated.

The lad took off his hat and smiled at her. "I wondered if my disguise was good enough, but I guess it was. It's so good to see you, Aunt Agatha!"

Agatha gasped, finally recognizing the youth. "Elizabeth!" she cried. She enfolded the young woman in her arms. "Oh, my dear, I had no idea it was you! Are you all right? The captain said you'd been ill!"

"I was extremely ill for a while, but I'm getting stronger now," Elizabeth said, hugging her tightly. Tears of joy shone in her eyes, but she smiled as her aunt held her at arms' length. "You look wonderful, Aunt!"

It was true. In England, Agatha had looked elderly, washed-out, stuffy, and proper. Now with a light tan, a colorful dress and a big smile, she looked years younger.

"Eliza dear, let me look at you! What on earth are you wearing? Oh, my, yes, you do look a little thin. Let's get you some breakfast right away! How did you become so ill?"

"I think it was Influenza," Elizabeth said, leading her across the deck. "And it was very bad, but Captain Sparrow is a good friend of my husband's and mine, and he came to my rescue, as it were. Oh, aunt, I don't know if you even knew I was married! We have so much to talk about!"

"Yes, of course, my dear. That's why I came! Would you like to start with why Weatherby Swann's only daughter is a wanted pirate?" Agatha asked innocently.

Elizabeth shook her head. "We'll get to that later, but first you have to meet my son! And Captain Sparrow, of course. I gather you've already met Mr Gibbs?" She asked this as she was opening the door to the captain's cabin, where Mr Gibbs himself sat at a table laid out for four. He was dandling a brown-eyed, giggling baby on his knee, and he looked up with a smile.

"Good morning, Mrs Ainsley-Swann, Mrs Turner," he greeted them both. "Come and sit down. Jack will be right along—he's checking our heading," he added, in answer to Elizabeth's inquiring glance. "But this young man's been keeping me company." He handed the baby to Elizabeth.

She smiled, taking Jacob in her arms. "And was Mr Gibbs telling you scary stories, then, Jacob?" she asked playfully. "He always has. I've known him since I was a child myself, you see. Come and meet your Great-aunt Agatha, hmm?"

"Oh, isn't he a darling!" Agatha cooed. "Just look at those gorgeous eyes, so dark and expressive! Elizabeth, he looks exactly like you did when you were that age!"

"And a good thing, too, as his father's an ugly git," came a new voice from the doorway.

Agatha looked up and let out a little shriek, eyes wide. "_YOU!_" she gasped. It was the long-haired man from the boat last night, but this was the first time she'd seen him in the light.

* * *

_Please review!_


	11. Recognition, Part II

The newcomer narrowed his kohl-rimmed eyes as he tilted his head and stared at Agatha. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

"London. Ten months ago." Agatha hated how breathless she sounded.

He looked at the first mate as he slid into his chair at the head of the table. "That would have been when I—"

"When you _failed_ to rescue me," Gibbs said pointedly.

"Yes, yes, but—" he noticed Agatha's hand going unconsciously to her ear, and he broke into a wide grin. "Oh, yes!" He fumbled through his hair and pulled out one lock that had a dainty silver trinket attached to it. He jingled it at her. "I remember now!" he said with a flirty smile, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Agatha covered her mouth to hide her answering smile and blush.

"So this is your aunt, eh, 'Lizabeth?" Jack said. "I should have guessed."

Elizabeth exchanged bewildered glances with Mr Gibbs, who gave Jack a look that was half astonished and half dismayed.

"What's that supposed to mean? Have you two met?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack chuckled. "Only in passing, really."

Agatha, regaining some of her composure, answered. "Yes, he 'passed' through my carriage while trying to escape the king's soldiers."

"_Escaping_, dearie. _Escaping _the king's soldiers," Jack corrected. "They didn't get me, after all." He patted her hand.

Agatha checked to make sure her rings were still there. He noticed and laughed, showing several gold teeth. He winked at her.

She gave up and smiled back. "So what's your name, then, you young scamp?"

"This is Captain Jack Sparrow, Aunt," Elizabeth introduced him. She added sternly, apparently not liking his informality, "Jack, this is my Aunt Agatha, whom you shall respectfully address as Mrs Ainsley-Swann."

Jack rose and made Agatha a little bow, dropping a kiss on the back of her hand. "The pleasure is all mine," he said, giving her a wicked grin as he added, "_Auntie_." The grin turned into a laugh as she checked her rings again.

After breakfast, Gibbs went up and took the wheel to head them back to New Flimwell. Elizabeth brought her aunt up to date on what she had been doing, with colorful commentary by Jack. She told her aunt as much as she could, skimming lightly over the more supernatural elements.

Jack interrupted and took over telling the part about the kraken, completely skipping Elizabeth's involvement in it, and was rewarded with her grateful smile. He let her tell about Will's stabbing the heart of Davy Jones, and smiled when she mentioned how selfless Jack had been to give up his dream of immortality for Elizabeth and Will's sake. He buffed his fingernails smugly, smirking, and Elizabeth cuffed him on the arm without pausing in her story.

Her aunt was skeptical. "So now your husband sails the _Flying Dutchman_ instead of Davy Jones, and you can only see him once every ten years?" Agatha asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes, that's right," Elizabeth replied.

"How is that managed? And how can a man live without a heart in his body, anyway? Wouldn't he be dead?"

"Undead, technically," Jack pointed out.

"Like a vampire," Agatha said.

"No!" Elizabeth replied with outrage. "My husband is not a vampire!"

"But he is undead," Jack reminded her helpfully.

"He may not be alive like you and I are, but he's not undead!"

"Darling, that's pretty much the definition of undead. Hate to tell you."

"The whole thing is ridiculous anyway. What happens if he goes onto land during the interim?" Agatha wanted to know.

"Er, we don't actually know. We just know that he can't."

"Well, couldn't you arrange meetings on board a ship somewhere?"

"We don't know that either. There wasn't anyone to ask."

"What about living on a houseboat?"

"We don't know, Aunt Agatha!" Elizabeth was getting frustrated.

So was Agatha. "Well, it seems to me that there could be ways around this so-called curse—of which I remain unconvinced, by the way—if he were any sort of a decent man!" She turned to Jack. "I suppose he asked you to check in on Elizabeth from time to time?"

"Not exactly."

"So why did you?"

"Well, we're friends, aren't we? Didn't want her to be completely abandoned, did I? And it's a bloody good thing I did, too—oh, pardon me. I mean a damned good thing—er... "

Agatha chuckled. "Captain, you're a sailor. I'd expect you to have salty language. No need to censor yourself unduly, sir."

Jack smiled. "You're a lady, Auntie, and time was when I was a gentleman—or could fake it pretty well at the very least. I'll do you the courtesy of trying not to swear overmuch, and you may reply in kind by not noticing when I do. Have we an accord?"

"We have indeed. Now, about this wild yarn about Mr Turner's heart in a box, and the limitations on his landfalls: are we absolutely certain that he isn't just a good-for-nothing who is using supernatural excuses to avoid his duty to his wife and child?"

"Of course not, Aunt!" Elizabeth cried, shocked. "I was there! I saw the whole thing: the murder, Will's death, Jack's helping Will to be the one to stab Jones' heart. I saw it all."

"Well, if you can think of some way to prove what you're saying, I would rest easier about this. In the meantime, we shall pretend I believe you. What it boils down to is that you're all alone in the world with a baby!"

"Well, Aunt," Elizabeth began. "We were actually rather hoping that you might be willing to come and stay with Jacob and me for a while. Just until I'm well enough to take care of us both again, that's all," she added in a rush. "I have a little cottage just outside the village of New Flimwell, where they know me only as Mrs Turner, the sailor's wife."

"And not about her illustrious career as Captain Swann, the Pirate King," Jack replied.

"Yes, but as I understand it, you're all pirates," Agatha remarked.

"Absolutely we are, dearie—however, it should be obvious to you now that not all pirates are created equally. Mrs Turner and me, well, we're a cut above the usual kind."

"And everyone else a cut below," Elizabeth muttered. Jack flashed her a quick grin and nodded.

"But in any case, Auntie, we need certain assurances that you won't give us up to the law when you get back to Port Royale. Or any other time, really," Jack said.

Elizabeth kicked him. "Mrs Ainsley-Swann!" she corrected in a hiss.

"Oh, I don't know," Jack said. "Your auntie and me are pretty well acquainted, love. Almost like family by now, ye might say. Eh, Auntie?" He nudged the older lady gently with his elbow.

Agatha couldn't help it. This dashing young pirate was so winsome; she smiled in spite of herself. "Better acquainted than we should be, young man," she scolded, rapping him on the knuckles with a table knife. "If I did have a nephew, I'm sure he wouldn't be such a rascal as you are!"

"You're right, of course. Technically, Will Turner is now your nephew," Jack remarked, rubbing his knuckles. "He's a good man, he is: kind, earnest, thoughtful, well-meaning, not a rascal at all." He somehow managed to make the compliments sound dull as ditchwater. "And he's only double-crossed me and stolen my ship once, which put him above Barbossa already. But he's not nearly as charming and handsome as I am, Auntie."

"Or as egocentric," Elizabeth retorted. "Now, Jack, you'll address my aunt respectfully!"

"Oh, hush, Elizabeth," Agatha remonstrated. "Captain Sparrow may call me what he likes, and I give you my word I won't turn in either of you, nor anyone who helps you."

"There, see?" Jack boasted. "Almost like family!"

"Fine," Elizabeth huffed. "How much longer until we get to Flimwell?"

"Ought to be there by midday," Jack answered. "Assuming the plan is acceptable to _Mrs Ainsley-Swann_."

Agatha raised her eyebrows at his sarcastic use of her title. "Perfectly, _Captain Sparrow._ I would like to spend some time with my niece."

"You'll have to spend at least tonight on the ship, though," Jack told them. "We didn't exactly leave the house fit to live in. I'll send up a few swabbies to clear out the mess and clean things up a bit, but it may take more than an afternoon."

"Thank you, Jack," Elizabeth told him. He patted her hand, nodded to Aunt Agatha, and headed out on deck. They could hear him bellowing orders to the crew.

"Well! He's certainly a charming rascal!" Agatha said, smiling to herself as she reached up to touch her ear.

Elizabeth gave her a suspicious look, which only made her smile more.


	12. The Hounds of New Flimwell

After breakfast, Agatha demanded a tour of the ship, which Jack and Elizabeth were only too happy to provide. After that, Elizabeth's energy was starting to fade, and Jacob was just waking up from his morning nap. Agatha offered to take the baby for an hour so Elizabeth could nap, which she did until just before lunchtime.

Agatha went in a little before noon to wake her up and help her dress—in an actual dress, this time. Agatha had noticed that Elizabeth was sleeping in the captain's cabin and seemed to know her way around it. She was amused at the dresser-drawer cot for little Jacob, but warned Elizabeth that if the baby weren't still recovering from his illness, that drawer wouldn't hold him very long. She noticed the canvas hammock strung up in the corner, but didn't say anything about it. It didn't seem entirely proper for Elizabeth to be sharing the captain's cabin with him, but her poor niece still couldn't stay alone and didn't seem to have any other option. Agatha was grateful they had been able to go and get her from Port Royale; otherwise, Elizabeth would have no other women around her at all!

At lunchtime, Jack popped in again. "Ought to be there in another hour or two," he said. He seemed distracted, sitting down with them and eating a few bites, then excusing himself to leave the cabin again. He was gone perhaps five minutes, then he returned and sat back down.

"Jack, what's going on? Is there another ship?" Elizabeth asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing." He ate another few bites. "Probably nothing." Another bite. "I'll let you know if it's something, all right?" And then he was up and out of the cabin again.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. "Excuse me, Aunt," she said, and followed him.

She went up to the quarter-deck, where he was watching the horizon with a spyglass. He handed it to her without a word, and she trained it on the same spot he'd been watching.

"What am I looking at?" She asked.

"New Flimwell."

"Why is New Flimwell smoking?"

"The dreadful but unavoidable conclusion to which I am pessimistically jumping is that New Flimwell is smoking because New Flimwell is on fire. We're going to find out what is going on before I let you and your aunt leave the ship," he said grimly. He took the spyglass back and began scanning the horizon. "Don't see any other ships. Have to wait until we get there to find out what happened." He lowered the spyglass and looked at her. "You ought to go below and keep your aunt company. No need to alarm her, eh?"

She nodded. "Right." She went back down.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Agatha asked her.

"Oh, just Jack being over-dramatic, as usual. We ought to be to New Flimwell in just over an hour," Elizabeth said. "I can't wait to show you my home. It isn't much, but the view is just lovely."

When the _Pearl_ anchored in the little cove below Elizabeth's house, Jack went ashore first with Gibbs. They landed on the little beach where they'd given the saltwater baths, and made their way directly into the village.

The village had been nearly razed. Smoke still rose from the remains of nearly every house. Only two or three buildings were still left standing. A few villagers were clustered here and there, talking, crying, or trying to move some of the rubble out of the road.

Jack looked closer: some of the "rubble" they were moving were dead villagers. The smell of rot was beginning to fill the air, already hard to breathe because of the smoke. Gibbs took out his handkerchief and breathed through it.

They came across one lad, around fourteen, attempting to move a charred beam from across the doorway of his house. "Here, lad, let me help," Jack offered. Together they heaved it away and the boy pushed the door open. Smoke billowed out and the boy coughed and waved it away as he tried to peer inside. He made to step in, but Gibbs grabbed him. "Son, the roof is about to cave in. It's not safe to go in there."

"But—but me mum was in there," the boy replied, his voice quavering. "I just wanted to see—I just wanted to make sure—"

Jack ducked his head and looked in. He came out again, shaking his head. "The inside is completely burned. If your mother was in there, she didn't survive, lad. I'm sorry."

The boy's face crumpled for a moment, but he didn't cry. He squared his shoulders. "Thank you for checking, sir," he said.

"Have you got anyone else you can go to?" Gibbs asked.

"Aye, me dad's alive." There was a note of cynicism in the boy's voice. "He's down the pub, like always."

"Can you show us where the pub is?" Gibbs asked. He muttered to Jack, "We'll be able to find out what happened there."

The boy led them down a side street, picking through the rubble of fallen beams and charred rafters. "What's your name, lad?" Jack asked him.

"Tommy Hound, sir" he said.

Jack stopped short. "Your mother was Mrs Thomas Hound?" he asked urgently.

"Aye. You know 'er? Everyone does. Did, I mean."

"No, but my friend Mrs Turner did."

"Oh, the pirate lady who lives on the hill?"

"Pirate lady?" Jack questioned, exchanging alarmed glances with Gibbs.

The boy nodded and tried to smile. "Aye, she tells us boys pirate stories when she comes down on market day. She'll not be very popular around here after this, though."

"Why, what happened here?"

The boy looked at him like he was a lunatic. "Pirate attack, o' course. Here's the pub, sir. Me dad's probably in there, if you want to talk to him." He waved them toward the door of a building that was only half-burned, and trudged onward, shrugging off their thanks.

Pirate attack? _Here?_ Jack and Gibbs exchanged bewildered glances and shook their heads.

Jack pushed open the door and went in. Gibbs followed. There were only a few people in there, but they were more than happy to tell the two men what had happened. Pirates had sailed into the port in the dead of night, the night before last. They had been merciless—they had sacked the entire town, looted and burned most of the houses, and killed the majority of the villagers.

"Why, though?" Jack asked. "Last I knew, this wasn't a rich settlement or anything. What would they get out of it?"

The innkeeper shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. It seemed like their leader was looking for something, and when she didn't find it, she just lost her temper and went insane."

"_'She'_?" Jack asked. "The pirate leader was a 'she'?"

The innkeeper nodded. "Odd, innit? You don't see many lady pirates. 'Ceptin' Mrs Turner up the hill, of course, but she only tells stories. She probably didn't even survive the attack."

A short, slight man with a sneer interrupted. "Mrs Turner," he announced, "was dying of a fever, and was no better than she ought to be, anyway."

Jack turned slowly. "And you are?"

"Hound."

"Ah. You're the one who allowed Mrs Turner to die of a fever, by refusing to let your wife visit and tend her. I know about you."

"Aye, she would have infected the whole village!" Hound blustered.

"Not that it matters now," Gibbs put in, looking disgusted. "From the look of things, an infection would have been kinder."

"It was probably her and her pirate stories that called the pirates here in the first place!" Hound said.

Jack clenched his fists, and Gibbs put a quelling hand on his shoulder.

"Here, what's your interest in Mrs Turner?" Hound asked Jack with a leer. "You the one fathered her bastard?"

Jack inhaled slowly through his nose. "Her _legitimate_ son was fathered by her _husband_, Will Turner, who is a good friend of mine. _That _is my interest in Mrs Turner, God rest her soul."

Hound shrugged, sniffed, and walked off. They saw him a moment later, flirting with the barmaid who was resisting his advances with disgust. Hound grabbed her and tried to pull her back when she walked away.

That was it for Jack.

He stalked over, Gibbs following in his wake. Jack grabbed Hound by the shoulder and spun him around. "Your wife's body isn't even cold yet. The embers of your house are still burning. Your son is walking the streets alone, grieving for her, and you're in here drinking, gossiping, and trying to get in with other women!" He gave Hound a hard, swift uppercut to the jaw.

The man dropped.

Jack nursed his wrist and hand. "Ouch!" he muttered.

The innkeeper poured him a drink. "On the house, with Flimwell's compliments," he said. "Man's a menace to decent society everywhere!"

"Ta," Jack said, and downed the drink. "Anything else you can tell us about the attack? What the leader looked like? What ship it was?"

"They weren't English," the innkeeper said. "Their leader was jabbering at them in some other language. She was a looker, all right—long, black hair, big hat with a big feather in it. She didn't do any of the dirty work herself, but her men did their share and hers besides. I've seen things now, that I never..." he let his voice trail off and shook his head. "Must be more than fifty people dead, and we only had around seventy-five residents to start with."

"Well, thank you for your time, thanks for the drink," Jack said politely. "We were just passing through, but if we can send help, we will."

"Thank ye kindly, sir. We surely need all the help we can get," the landlord said sadly.

The two men headed back to the boat.

"One thing's certain," Gibbs said. "Miss Elizabeth can't stay here."

"Aye," Jack agreed. "We'll head back to the _Pearl_ and pick her up so she can go up to her house and get what she needs from there."

When they got back to the _Pearl, _Gibbs tied up the boat but didn't raise it. Jack climbed up onto the ship, where Elizabeth and Agatha were waiting at the rail for him.

"Jack, what happened? What did you find out?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Pirate attack. Village is burned. Most of the villagers killed," Jack said shortly.

Agatha gasped.

"_Pirate attack_?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "In New Flimwell? _Why_?"

"No idea, love. Someone in the village said something about them looking for something, but that's all we found out."

"It's just—there's no reason to attack New Flimwell. They don't have anything. Fish and goats and that's about all. Will and I chose that location specifically because it wouldn't be of any interest to pirates."

"Well, _you're _interesting to pirates, darling," Jack said.

"Me?"

"Aye. I personally find you fascinating," he said with a flirtatious grin, and then sobered. "But all the pirate lords know you're the pirate king. That in itself makes you a 'person of interest,' even in a poky little spot like Flimwell. Now go change into something useful, eh? You have to come back with me and see what you can get out of your cottage. You and your aunt aren't staying here, that's for sure, and since everyone there believes you dead and I saw no reason to disabuse them of the notion, you won't be going back there, either. So you'll get whatever you can save, and we'll skedaddle."

"Right," Elizabeth said crisply, and disappeared into Jack's cabin.

"If it weren't my niece, is there anything else someone might be interested in?" Agatha asked the captain.

"Don't know, ma'am. It makes no sense. Not only was it a pointless waste of a perfectly good settlement—not to mention settlers—but there's no profit in it, see?"

"I see," Agatha replied.

"Only other possibility I can think of is... well, something I don't care to think of," he admitted.

"Will's heart?" Elizabeth asked, emerging from the cabin dressed in her breeches, shirt, waistcoat, and hat.

"Will's heart," he replied with a grimace. "Let's go." He nodded to Agatha and gestured for Elizabeth to climb down first.


	13. Home is Where the Heart is

Gibbs rowed the three of them back to the beach, and Elizabeth took his arm to help her up the hill while Jack went on ahead. Smoke was rising from the cottage before he got there, and he swore. The door was half off its hinges, and the roof was nearly gone, but the walls were still standing. He waited until Elizabeth and Gibbs had got there, exchanged a couple of grim looks with them, and then went inside.

The living area had been completely ransacked. Elizabeth's food and supplies were either missing or scattered all over the floor. She came in behind him and gasped. She hurried into the bedroom. They heard her exclamation and followed her in there.

Her bed was burned to ash, and so was the baby's cot. All her clothes were pulled out of the closet and slashed and burned to pieces. The drawers on her dressing table were pulled out and smashed. Baby clothes were torn up and charred.

"It's not as bad as it is in the village," Gibbs told her. "Most of the village is gone. Houses burned, buildings caved in, most of the villagers murdered."

"Including your friend Mrs Thomas," Jack told her. "Sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth clung to Gibbs' arm and buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, now, it's all right, Mrs Turner," he said, patting her shoulder. "I'm very sorry for your friend, but you're all right. You weren't here for it, were you? And neither was little Jake. We got you out in time. And all the rest of your things—well, they're just _things,_ aren't they?"

Elizabeth lifted her head from Gibbs' shoulder. "Yes... but why _my_ things? They didn't take anything. They just ruined it all," she said in consternation. "Tore it up and burned it. Why on earth—?" She hurried out into the living area. "It's almost as if this was..."

"Personal?" Gibbs offered.

She nodded.

"Anything you can salvage, love?" Jack asked her.

"I don't know. I doubt it." She kicked through a pile of ashes. She went through her cupboards and saw her dishes all broken, her food spilled and wasted. "They didn't even take any of the food!" She shook her head. "What kind of pirates would rather waste food than take it?"

Jack shook his head, evidently mystified. "No pirate I've ever met!"

"Aye. We're more the 'take what you can' sort," Gibbs agreed.

"'Give nothing back,' yes, I know," Elizabeth said. She sighed, surveying the damage. "Well, I'd better make sure the chest is still where I left it."

"Tell me it's not under the bedroom floorboards," Jack said.

"It's not under the bedroom floorboards," she said. She went out and they followed. "Would you two step aside, please?" she asked.

Jack and Gibbs backed away from the door, and Elizabeth went out to the woods and came back with a long stick, which she dropped beside the door. She went down to the stream and came back carrying a large rock, which she dropped beside the doorstep.

Gibbs and Jack exchanged bewildered shrugs.

Elizabeth wedged the stick under the doorstep, and pushed it down against the rock. The doorstep started to lift a little.

"Aha!" Jack said. "Leverage!" He bent and helped her lift up the doorstep.

Elizabeth answered, using the stick to dig down a few inches into the soil until it thunked hollowly against the chest that housed Will's heart.

"Right, then." Jack gently shoved her out of the way and nodded to Gibbs. The two men dug out the chest, and then put the doorstep back down. "Anything else you want to take?"

She shook her head.

"In any case, Will still has the key to the chest, doesn't he?"

She nodded, and the three of them leaned in close, to hear the steady beating. All three sighed in relief.

"Come on, then, darling." He put the chest on his shoulder and offered Elizabeth his arm for the trip back down the hill.

Back on the _Pearl,_ Jack bellowed for the crew to weigh anchor and lower the sails "On the double! Scurry! Scurry!" and as the crew leaped to their duty, Agatha cornered the exhausted-looking Elizabeth.

"You come with me right now, young lady," she ordered. With just a glance, she told Captain Sparrow that she was going to take care of Elizabeth. He nodded and looked relieved. Agatha pulled Elizabeth into the captain's cabin and sat her down on the bed.

"Take off those boots and trousers, dear. You and Jacob both need a bit of nosh and a nap, and you're not doing another thing until both are complete. Hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Elizabeth said, subdued. "Oh, Aunt, it was horrible." She pushed off her trousers and waistcoat, and pulled the covers up over her legs.

"Aaand we won't talk of it now," Agatha interrupted, bustling about getting a tray of snacks together from the leftover lunch—of which neither Elizabeth nor the captain had eaten much. She left the tray on the table and went to the door.

"Mr Martin!" she called. "May I have my nephew now?"

Marty came right over with the baby. "Here he is, ma'am. He'll be eager to see his mum, I think."

Jacob was fussing and working himself up into a grand cry. "Yes, I can see that," Agatha agreed with a smile. "Thank you, Mr Martin."

Marty blushed a little and gave her a little salute, and went back out on deck with a bit of a swagger. Just as the door closed, they heard him saying, "You hear that? Mrs Turner's aunt callin' _me_ 'mister'!"

Agatha and Elizabeth smiled at each other, and Elizabeth reached up for her baby. "Hello, sweetie!" she greeted. Jacob was hungry and singleminded in his nursing. Agatha handed Elizabeth some bread and butter to eat while she fed her son, and then an apple, and then a cup of tea, and then some more bread.

Elizabeth ate it all, and then looked up ruefully. "I hadn't realized I was so hungry."

"I thought you might be. If you've been as ill as they said, you'll want feeding up for a good while yet. As will the wee one," Agatha said, patting her shoulder. "Feeding and sleeping, for a while yet."

Elizabeth sighed. "It's gone, Aunt Agatha. All of it. My cottage is burned and all my things are ruined. We brought back Will's heart, but that's all. Everything is gone. Jack says even the village is destroyed; only twenty people or so survived. Who would do such a thing? We've lost everything, and I have nowhere to go now!" Elizabeth's eyes started welling up with tears.

"There, dear, it's not so bad," Agatha said, pulling her into a hug. "All you've lost are things. You still have your life; you still have your son; and you still have the heart of your husband. And you have me, and I daresay you have Captain Sparrow as well. You won't be alone in this anymore."

It was the determined but reassuring smile on her aunt's face as much as it was the loving touch on her shoulder that made Elizabeth at last relinquish her iron control and allow her tears to flow. She sobbed into her hands, hardly noticing as her aunt took the now-sleeping baby from her and put him into his makeshift cot in the dresser. Agatha sat next to Elizabeth and put her arms around her, rocking her like a child.

When Elizabeth's tears were finally spent, she dropped off to sleep looking startlingly like the child she had been, and that Agatha still saw her as. Agatha smoothed her niece's hair and tucked the blanket around her shoulders and left the cabin.


	14. Shipwreck

Agatha went out on deck. The ship was well underway by now. The captain was at the helm, conferring with the first mate about something. The mate saw her, nudged the captain, and said something to him. Jack nodded, and Gibbs came over to the stairs.

"Would you care to come up, Mrs. A.? Seems we have some things to discuss."

"Gladly, Mr Gibbs." Agatha climbed the steep stairs—really, it was more like a ladder than a staircase!—and joined the two men.

"How's Mrs Turner doing?" Jack asked.

"Ate some food, fed her child, cried on me for a bit, and fell asleep," came Agatha's crisp reply.

"Poor lass," Gibbs said. "Bein' so ill, and then having this happen."

Jack agreed. "Even someone as tough as Elizabeth has a breaking point. Pity about her friend." He looked at Agatha with as serious an expression as she had seen on his face so far. "Thank you for taking care of her, ma'am, and for coming with us. She needs you."

Agatha noticed it was "auntie" when he was joking and "ma'am" when he was serious. Matching his serious tone, she replied, "It seems that I owe you thanks as well, Captain Sparrow. You've been a good friend to my niece, as well as saving her life. And you as well, Mr Gibbs. I thank you on my brother's behalf for looking after his daughter."

The two pirates were not used to being spoken to so respectfully by respectable people, and Gibbs blushed a little while Jack fidgeted with his shirt-cuff.

"Our pleasure, ma'am," Gibbs said finally.

Agatha nodded curtly. There, now with the pleasantries out of the way... "So what happened to her house? Elizabeth didn't come back with anything from her house except that one chest."

"Oh, this chest?" Jack bent and picked it from where it rested beneath the helm. He leaned close to listen to it, and Agatha copied him.

_thump_, **thump! **_thump_**, thump**! _thump_, **_thump_!**

Agatha squeaked in surprise and stepped back, her eyes wide. "I-is that it?" she asked.

Jack snickered and gave her a knowing look. She'd asked him that before!

Agatha took a threatening step forward.

"Yes, that's it," Jack hastened to affirm. "'The heart of her husband doth safely rest with her,'" he quoted.

"I can hardly believe it!" Agatha said. "It's true? You give me your word of honor it's all true?"

Jack nodded. "Might've been embellished slightly for the sake of the tale, but not by much. Word of honor."

"She said everything else was burned. Was anything salvageable?" Agatha asked.

"Burned _and_ ransacked," Jack told her. "All the contents destroyed."

Agatha nodded grimly. "So if we can't stay in New Flimwell, where are you taking us now?"

Jack exchanged glances with his first mate. "Well, I do have a place in mind, but I may need your help to sell her on that idea, Auntie. I'm thinking you can both stay with me father for a while."

"Where?"

"Shipwreck Cove. The three of you would be safe with him while we go out and find whoever is responsible for sacking Flimwell and... deal with them appropriately." Jack's tone was hard.

"Why won't Elizabeth want to go there?"

"It's a pirate haven, Auntie. I doubt she'll mind overmuch for her own sake, particularly as that's where she ascended to royalty, as it were. However, I likewise doubt that she'll think it a proper place for babes-in-arms or respectable aunts."

"You let me worry about that. Keeping her safe is far more important than my respectability, Captain Sparrow. Will your father be able to accomplish that?"

Jack gave an awkward half-smile. "You'll have to meet me dad," was all he said.

The conversation with Elizabeth actually went better than Jack had expected. He and Agatha confronted her in the captain's cabin shortly after she woke up and dressed, and told her the plan.

"Why Shipwreck Cove?" Elizabeth asked.

"Darling, you settled in a place that would be uninteresting to pirates, and pirates found you anyway. Perhaps this time you should choose a town of supreme interest to pirates, but one they avoid like the plague."

"Why do pirates avoid a pirate haven?"

"We hate bureaucracy," Jack replied. "And Shipwreck is full of it. Every pirate who stays there longer than a night or two has to make himself known to the Brethren or the Keeper of the Code if none of the Pirate Lords are there, and he gets judged as to how well he keeps to the Code. And for another thing, as you know, the Keeper of the Code is my father. The two of you ought to be _very_ safe there."

"What about you? Do you avoid it?"

"Hell, yes. Didn't you meet my father?"

"Not officially. I can think of several things I'd like to ask him," Elizabeth mused. For being Pirate King, she really didn't know much about the code.

Jack misunderstood. "I'll not be having him tell you tales out of school about me, young missy!" He scowled.

Elizabeth scoffed. "Oh, you think it's all about you. I wasn't even thinking of that."

"Oh."

Elizabeth decided that a sheepish expression really didn't suit his face. She had to change it. "However, now you bring it up—"

"I think not, my girl."

Elizabeth grinned—Jack was such a tease that it was fun to turn the tables on him from time to time. Agatha, watching in the background, smiled and said nothing.

"All right, we'll go to Shipwreck. Will your father let us stay?"

"Of course. My dad may be intimidating as all hell, but even he isn't proof against a pretty damsel in distress. Or even two," he said, with a gallant bow at Agatha.

"Or a distressing damsel?" Elizabeth asked innocently.

"That too," he grinned.

When they reached Shipwreck, Jack went ashore first so he could talk to his father and make some arrangements. He found him at the pub, sitting in the corner playing his guitar. Jack joined him, slumping into the opposite chair, waiting and listening until the song was finished. Then he waited a minute longer until Captain Teague looked up and acknowledged him.

"'Ello, Jacky," he said.

"Hello, Dad."

"Buy us a drink, then."

Jack signaled to the barmaid to refill his father's drink and bring him one of the same. He waited until they'd been poured, and he lifted his to his father. "Your health, sir."

Teague nodded, accepting it as his due. "And yours, son."

They drank.

Teague ordered, "Out with it."

Jack swallowed. "There're two women and a baby who need somewhere safe to stay for a bit. Somewhere they won't be bothered overmuch by pirates—or the law."

"Jacky! Did you get some tart with child?" Teague asked sternly, leaning forward.

"Oh, no, Dad. It's not mine. Neither is the mother, for that matter. She's... a friend. More to the point, she's the wife of a friend, and said friend just happens to be the new captain of the _Flying Dutchman_."

One of Teague's guitar strings twanged. "Son, this friend of yours wouldn't happen to be the Pirate King, would she?"

"Aye."

"And she's married to Davy Jones' replacement?" Very little could intimidate or discomfit Teague, but he was looking a little pale. He took a long drink.

"Aye, and they've a baby. Elizabeth, her aunt, and the baby need somewhere safe to stay, as the village they were going to live in just got attacked by pirates and her whole house looted and burned. I figured staying with you might be the safest option, if you're willing to host them."

"Of course, son. My home is theirs for as long as they need!" Teague was nearly falling over himself to agree.

"All right," Jack said, looking a little suspicious at the sudden agreement. "Funny, I thought that'd be a harder sell."

"Jacky," Teague said. "Do I look stupid? I don't think you understand what you're saying. I know the new captain is a friend of yours, but to the rest of us what you're saying is that the ship of death's family needs a place to stay. I don't know a single pirate here brave enough to tell them 'no, try somewhere else,' do you? Knowing sailors as ye do?"

"Hadn't thought of it like that." Jack supposed that he himself might have gained a little notoriety just by being friends with Will. He brightened at the thought. He could use that! "Right, then," he said. "I'll head back to my ship and deliver the lot of 'em to you. She ought to be safe with you, I should think."

"Aye, that she will. I'm Keeper of the Code."

"And she'll be safe _from_ you as well, right, Dad?" Jack asked pointedly.

"Teague spread out his hands, palm up. "Jack, can you name just one man fool enough to lay a single hand on the _Dutchman _captain's wife?"

Jack's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and looked away guiltily. "If I could, I wouldn't. Name him. To you. Or anyone." He shook his head, drained his glass, and rose. "I gotta go."

Teague raised his eyebrows as he watched his slightly poncey son make his arm-flailing way toward the door. Jack might have the effeminate mannerism or two, but he obviously preferred the fairer sex—if his chronic habit of getting into trouble with them was any indication. It was a good thing the lad had the devil's own luck, if he was involved in any way with the _Dutchman _captain's wife. He'd need it! Teague packed up his guitar and headed home.


	15. Teague's Hospitality

Teague still maintained his beloved ship, but it was at anchor in the harbor most of the time these days. He had a small house in the town of Shipwreck, and he kept a few guest rooms ready for visitors. He had reached an age when most of his enemies had either died off or become his friends, and he liked to have them come round every so often to drink, trade tales, and give him an audience for his guitar. He also kept a maid-of-all-work named Maggie, and it was she who met him at the door and reassured him that there were two guest rooms ready to receive guests. Teague knew Jack would want to remain on the _Black Pearl_ as long as she was in the harbor, so he didn't bother to prepare a third.

Jack himself showed up a couple hours later with Elizabeth Swann, her baby, and an older lady. Teague answered the door himself, much to Maggie's mortification.

Jack introduced them. "I assume you remember the Pirate King?"

Teague raised his hat and bowed. "Captain Swann. A pleasure."

"It's Mrs Turner now, Dad," Jack reminded him. Teague ignored him, turning his appreciative gaze toward Agatha.

"This is her Aunt, Agatha Ainsley-Swann, and the laddie with the lively brown eyes is little Jake," Jack introduced. "Ladies, Master Jake," he said with a little nod to Jacob, "This is my father, Captain Edward Teague."

"A pleasure, sir," said Agatha.

Teague swept off his hat and made a dramatic bow, kissing her hand. "All mine, I assure you, madam."

"It's very kind of you to allow us to stay, Captain Teague," Elizabeth said.

"Not at all, ladies. Pleasure to meet you." It was, too—Mrs Turner was a right pretty lass, and her aunt an extremely striking and handsome woman. Teague supposed he could perhaps bring himself to tolerate their company for a few weeks for the sake of the scenery. He led them into the house. "You staying, Jack?"

Jack shook his head. "No, sorry, Dad—we're weighing anchor as soon as I get back." He touched Elizabeth's shoulder so she'd hang back with him in the doorway as Teague nodded and led Agatha to the sitting room. "I'll see you again after I've found out who's responsible for sacking Flimwell."

"Will you come tell me before you take action?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Because I was the one attacked, and I'm the Pirate King. I ought to be the one to mete out justice, don't you think?"

"Er, if there's time I will."

"Jack, promise me you'll at least try to keep your head and keep me involved!"

"'Lizabeth..."

"Jack!"

He sighed. "All right, I'll try me best to let you know before I take action. If there's time. All right?"

"Thank you."

Jack turned to go, but hesitated. "And Lizzie..." he said quietly.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. He didn't usually call her that, preferring to use her whole name or his usual endearments. Whenever he did, they were always rather personal conversations. "Hmm?"

"Be careful what you tell Teague, savvy?"

"He's your father. Are you saying we can't trust him? Did you leave us with someone we can't trust?" Elizabeth sounded worried.

Jack winced. "No, no, 's not what I mean. I'd trust him with me life—and more, I'm even trusting him with yours. It's just that... he has his own agenda. He likes to look out for his own interests, right?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Sounds like a typical pirate to me, and I'm fairly experienced at dealing with those."

Jack shook his head. "He's not a _typical_ pirate, love, and don't start talking to him thinkin' he is. That's all."

"Very well. I'll see you when you get back, then. And be careful!"

He gave her a glittering, lopsided grin. "I will, and if I can't be careful, I'll be lucky!" and he was gone.

Elizabeth smiled to herself and turned around to see Captain Teague and her aunt both regarding her curiously.

"Come and sit down, Elizabeth," Agatha invited. "The maid has Jacob for a bit, and Captain Teague and I were just saying we wanted to hear about your wedding."

* * *

_Note to people who are reading along as I post: I have added a couple of minor bits to chapters 11 and 14, due to an excellent suggestion by DorianGray91. And yes, I know this chapter is short, but the next one ought to be going up tomorrow and it's quite long, so be patient. If anyone else has suggestions or criticism, feel free! I'll be grateful._


	16. Carrier Pigeon

Jack lifted anchor as soon as he got back to the ship. He set sail back toward New Flimwell, and then left Cotton at the wheel, called for a bottle of rum, and disappeared into his cabin.

He had to find out what happened, and who had done it. A brutal attack like that, led by a woman, was incongruous from the start. A woman who was looking for something or someone—she had to be looking for either Elizabeth, or for Will's heart, or maybe even both.

And that wasn't his only problem. What was he going to do with Elizabeth? He didn't know how long her respectable aunt was willing to stay with her in a pirate town, but he knew that Elizabeth wouldn't want to stay there with his father indefinitely. Jack himself preferred to keep his visits to Teague brief; he didn't figure Elizabeth and her aunt would really want to set down roots in the home of the most intimidating pirate in the Cove.

It was a pity that she had married that whelp in the first place, but as long as she had, it was a pity that the whelp couldn't be with her. It was a rotten shame that she'd had to carry and bear her babe without any support from the father of said babe—or indeed, without even his knowledge. If it hadn't been for the late Mrs Thomas and for Jack's rapid actions, Will wouldn't have anyone to go home to in nine years.

If only there were some way he could contact Will. In light of recent events, he had one or two things to discuss with Elizabeth's husband. If there was only some way Will could be freed of the curse of the Dutchman, he could go home to his wife. Better yet, Jack could be freed of his self-imposed obligation to check in on the aforementioned wife, and of his growing compulsion to spend time bantering and flirting with her, and of his increasing—

"Stirrings, damn me," he muttered. Stirrings, possibly even _feelings_, for another man's wife, when both the man _and_ the wife were his friends. No, this could not continue. He had to find some way to contact Will—for his own sake just as much as for Elizabeth's!

He called on his loyal first mate.

"Mr Gibbs! A moment, if you please."

"Aye, sir?"

"If a sailor in fine health and with a long life ahead of him, wished to confer verbally and in no other way with the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and yet continue with the aforementioned long life and fine health, how do you fancy it might be managed?"

Gibbs thought a moment. "Sink a ship, maybe."

"Seems a bit—" Jack waved his hands expressively, "—drastic. Also difficult to accomplish without loss of life, which is, I believe, the only way to get his attention. And loss of life is often just as wasteful as needlessly sinking a ship. Think again, Gibbs."

Gibbs thought again. "Find someone who's dying, and tie a message to 'im."

Jack tsked. "Last resort only. It's tacky. Also, the message-on-a-corpse has already been done, by the Dutchman's current captain, in fact." Jack sighed, staring at the horizon. "Think on it further, Mr Gibbs."

"Aye, I'll do me best, Jack."

The cabin boy ascended the stairs to the top deck and gave Jack a sloppy salute. "Pardon me, Captain, sir, but Mr James wants to know what you'd like for supper."

"Tell Mr James to choose something himself. Tell Mr James to surprise me. I have absolute faith in Mr James' sense of the gustatorially appropriate, especially when it comes to fine piratical cuis—Ahhhhhh!" Jack yelped and leaped back as Barbossa's monkey jumped up into his face and screeched at him. It screeched again, and then darted away. Jack shuddered.

"Lad, catch me that monkey," he ordered. "Within the hour!"

"Aye, Captain!" the cabin boy saluted again, smartly this time, and scurried off.

"The boy's name is Simon, Jack," Gibbs remonstrated gently.

"Is it, now. Well, I'm concentrating more on the _simian_, at the moment," Jack growled. "I have to get it off my ship before it drives me mad!"

"—_Er,_" Gibbs added under his breath.

Jack gave him a sharp look. "Just you concentrate on how I can get in touch with Will, Mr Gibbs, without someone dying or sinking a ship. Eh?"

"Aye, Captain."

Jack nodded sharply and went back to his cabin. Frowning and restless, he swept the charts aside and took a fresh square of parchment. He wrote a brief message, corked his inkwell again, and sat back drumming his fingers thoughtfully. Rum. He needed rum. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a nearly empty bottle, which he shook and eyed suspiciously when he heard how little was in it. He opened it and tipped it back to let the last few mouthfuls wash down his throat.

"Gone," he mourned. "Always gone."

He set down the bottle and eyed it, then looked at his parchment. "Message in a bottle?" he muttered, still drumming his fingers. "No, no connection with death. Wouldn't get his attention. Might get Calypso's, and that we do _not_ want." Drum, drum, drum. "Well, it's a start, though."

He rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into the bottle (carefully swallowing the last few drops first, just to make sure the parchment stayed dry), and corked the bottle as tightly as he could. "Great. Now what?"

At that moment, the monkey—who had an uncanny ability to get in and out of locked rooms; it was one of the things that drove Jack insane about it—swooped in, grabbed Jack's paperweight, and lobbed it at his head.

"OW!" Jack yelled, clutching his head and glaring at the monkey. "That's it, you little demon!" he growled. "I've had it with you! You're going over!" He feinted left, then attacked right, and managed to catch the monkey. It screeched in his face, knocking over the rum bottle with the message in it.

Jack stared at it for a long moment. Slowly, he began to grin.

Two minutes later he emerged, monkey in one hand and rum bottle in the other, and went up to the upper deck where Gibbs was at the helm.

"I see you caught the monkey."

"I did indeed," Jack said with a large degree of satisfaction. "Which reminds me—_Simon_!" he bawled up toward the sails.

"Aye?" came the cabin boy's thin voice from up near the crow's nest.

"I caught the monkey! Come down!"

"Aye, sir!" came the boy's voice, sounding relieved.

Jack gave Gibbs a look as if to say _there, see? I'm not so bad, _and Gibbs smiled and nodded.

"I still haven't thought of anything yet, Captain," he said.

Jack airily waved away his concern. "No matter, Mr Gibbs. At the moment I require your assistance with something different."

"Of course, sir. What?"

"I'm launching a new seacraft. I don't have any champagne to break over its head—ah, hull, and wouldn't waste it like that even if I did, but perhaps we can drink to it later."

Gibbs blinked. "A new seacraft, Captain?"

Jack nodded, his hands busy tying some sort of cord around the monkey's neck and back. He pulled the knot tight and held up the monkey with the bottle tied to its back, inspecting his handiwork. "Aye. It's called the _J.S.M Carrier Pigeon_." With that, he drew back his arm and flung the monkey over the stern as hard as he could. The monkey let out a loud descant of a screech, culminating in a splash.

Jack smiled happily at Gibbs, nodded, and went back below.

Gibbs chuckled. "That's different, all right." Sending an undead monkey into the domain of Davy Jones probably would be a good way to get Will's attention, at that!


	17. Flying Dutchman

William Turner was playing a game of dice with his crew, who now bartered with pearls instead of years of servitude, when he felt a small disturbance in his watery domain. It was very slight, not even as much of a ripple as a drowning child would make, but it piqued his curiosity.

He raised the _Dutchman_ up right next to where he'd felt the ripple, and searched the waters. He saw nothing, not even so much as a dinghy. He closed his eyes ad felt out with his senses—those gifts he had inherited along with his ship. He was still learning to use them, but perhaps they could help him here.

Yes. There. A tiny, tiny dot in the water. Barely there at all. "Get the hook out there!" he shouted. "There, Mr Buckley, d'you see it?"

"Aye, Captain. I've almost—there, now I've got it." Buckley hauled it in closer just as the moon came out. "It's a baby. Baby's skeleton, anyway."

Oh, dear Lord, no, Will thought. Ferrying babies and children to the land of the dead was his least favorite part of the new job.

"Wait, Cap'n! It moved! Whoaaaaaaah!" the sailor screeched as the "baby" abruptly came to life and swarmed up the pole like a—

"Monkey," Will said, smothering a laugh as his crewmen scattered in fear of the skeletal pet. "Undead monkey. Barbossa's pet. Nothing to be afraid of, men."

"Hello there, Jack," Will greeted it, crouching down and putting out his arm for the monkey to climb. It scampered up and sat on his shoulder. It had a bottle on its back.

"What's this, fellow?" Will asked it, cutting the swollen cords that bound it. Freed, the monkey made a leap for the rigging and disappeared into it. Will smashed the bottle against the compass-holder and tossed the neck of it overboard; he unrolled the parchment and read it.

_Will  
See me.  
Soon.  
**Important**.  
Jack_

Will felt a glimmer of amusement at Jack's typical efficiency in both getting a message to him and in getting the monkey off his ship. His amusement deepened when he contrasted the brevity of the note with Jack's typical flamboyantly roundabout speeches.

The next instant, he was all business. The word "important" was underlined twice. "All hands, we're going down!" he yelled, feeling a moment of pride in how they all leaped to obey. The ship descended, and not even half a day later was coming back up again, more than a hundred miles away. Will liked sailing, but he especially loved his new ability to travel great distances, submerged, in moments.

"Sail ho!" bellowed Ragetti from the crow's next of the _Pearl_.

Jack appeared on deck, glancing up at Mr Gibbs for confirmation. The mate nodded and pointed. "The _Dutchman_."

"Prompt," Jack remarked with approval.

"Looks like the _Pigeon_ accomplished its mission, eh, Jack?" Gibbs chortled.

Will suddenly appeared on the deck of the _Pearl,_ with the monkey in his arms. "Is this what you're talking about?" he asked.

"Aye, it's our new mail boat, Captain Turner," Gibbs explained. "_J.S.M. Carrier Pigeon_."

"J.S.M?" Will asked.

"Jack Sparrow's Monkey, of course," Jack explained. "Barbossa abandoned it with the Pearl, so I have rights of salvage. He's my monkey now, and finally good for something. Thought he might get your attention, and show a bit more class than strapping bodies to barrels." He came forward, hand outstretched. "How's un-life, then, William? Everything good? How's Bootstrap?"

Will shook hands with a smile. "Good to see you, Jack. I'm fine, and so is my father. What about you? Everything all right? No one on board is dying," he remarked, looking around at the rest of the sailors who were slowly backing away with pale faces. "So it can't be that bad."

"No, no, we're all fine here, mate. Have to talk to you though, William. Care to join me?" Jack gestured grandly toward his cabin, and Will nodded and preceded him.

Jack closed the door and waved Will to a chair. He got out a bottle of rum and offered Will the first gulp. Will tipped it up and swallowed, then handed it back. Jack hesitated for an instant, and then took a drink and sat down. He set the bottle on the table, precisely in the center between the two of them.

"I have to talk to you about your wife," he said.

"Elizabeth! Is she all right?"

Jack took a deep breath. "She's alive. She got some sort of fever, and she and the child almost died."

"There's a child?" Will asked, eyes wide with shock.

Jack nodded. "Jacob. Congratulations. They lived through the fever and are starting to get better, but we nearly lost 'em both. They're staying with my father in Shipwreck."

"Why not New Flimwell?"

"That's where they almost died, because no one in the village would help them. One of the women there sent me a letter to let me know, but I barely got there in time. Another few hours and…" Jack shook his head, his manner devoid of its usual ebullience and flair. "Plus, now the whole place has been sacked and burned."

"Wait—how did you—I mean, who sent the letter? Do you know the woman? Who sacked it? Why?" Will shook his head. "I think you'd better start at the beginning, Jack. And don't leave out any details, because if you're dealing with this in your usual multi-layered way—trust me, you _really _wouldn't want me to find out on my own later."

Jack sighed. "Fine. Few months ago I happened to hear that your wife had just sprung a fresh, new little Turner upon the world, so in honor of the Pirate King I steered me lovely _Pearl_ toward Flimwell. It's also a hidden cove with a nice little freshwater stream flowing into it, so while the men were filling the barrels I went up to visit Mrs Turner, pay my respects, and see the little one."

"What's he like?" Will asked eagerly.

"Looks like his mother, thank the Lord," Jack said. He smiled a little. "Big brown eyes, big grin—he's a very handsome lad, actually. Loves his Uncle Jack already, so he does."

"Does he," Will said drily.

"Well, I've managed to pop in for a visit every few weeks, see young Jake, bring Elizabeth—er, Mrs Turner, that is—some things she might not be able to get in New Flimwell. Which is nearly everything but fish and goats, really. What possessed you to pick a place like _that _to settle her in?"

"At the time, it seemed like what we were looking for. We only had until sunset to find a place, remember."

"Should've asked. Anyway, first time I visited I gave Elizabeth my address in Tortuga and told her to let me know if she needed anything. She wrote a couple of times for some things, and I brought them by next time I was in the neighborhood. I know what you're thinking, mate," he said, noting the uncomfortable expression on Will's face. "I'll tell you the same thing I told her: I'm there as a friend only, and 'cause you can't be. Not trying to step in where I'm not wanted, or ruin her reputation or anything. Savvy?"

"Yes. Go on." Will sounded relieved.

"Right. This one time we sail into Tortuga and my letter there isn't from your wife at all. 'S from some woman in the village, telling me Elizabeth and Jake are dying of a fever and no one's willing to help them for fear of catching it. So we weigh anchor and make for Flimwell. Get there after midnight, and Marty, Gibbs, and I go racing up that hill like a pack of fiends. Get there just barely in time, with them both mostly dead of fever and thirst. Whole place reeked like a Soho alley—I wouldn't've let a dog in there—so we just grabbed 'em both and scarpered. Got 'em cleaned up and brought 'em on board the Pearl where we could tend to 'em and still keep away from the Navy. We kept 'em long enough to make sure they'd both live, and then left 'em with me dad at his house in Shipwreck. I came back out to see if I could contact you, and to try and find out who sacked Flimwell and why."

"They're both recovering, then?" Will asked. Jack nodded. "Wait—" Will added. Jack's shoulders sagged. "What do you mean you got them cleaned up? From what?"

Jack swallowed, with a little grimace of dread. He'd been afraid this would come up. He decided to face it head-on for a change. Maybe Will would be disarmed by his honesty? Worth a try, anyway. "Will, they'd both been lying in their own sick for days," he said candidly. "They had open sores all over their bodies from it. We had to give 'em both a bath in the seawater to clean 'em up and treat their rashes before they could even come aboard. It was easiest that way, believe me."

"You—you bathed my wife?" Will asked, his tone containing a note of quiet threat.

The memory of that night, the mortification of having to clean Elizabeth up from her own bodily waste, combined with the raw fear of having her die in his arms any minute, washed over Jack, and he lifted his chin, sat up, and looked Will straight in the eye.

"Aye, I did. I washed every nook and cranny of that woman, Will, and I did all of it myself! I wanted to spare her the indignity of having it done by someone who didn't care so much, or who might get some sort of perverse thrill out of touching a dying woman caked in her own dried shit and vomit! So before you ask, no, I did _not_ enjoy it, and yes, it _did_ need to be done. So kindly refrain from killing me for doing what shouldn't have been necessary if you were there to do your job and take care of her properly!"

Will was silent for a long moment, staring at him, surprised by Jack's seriousness and vehemence. "My job," he said finally.

Jack glared at him. "Aye, man, your job," he said, slumping back again. "You're her husband. She needs you. You're the man she loves, the man she married, but all she _has_ is me, a disreputable pirate who pops round every few weeks and that's all. It's not enough. She needs her husband, Will. Her son needs a father. You realize that he'll be able to see you only once before he's a man? You of all people know what it's like to grow up without a father because he was lost at sea. You want that for your own son? Didn't think so. We have to figure out some way to free you so you can go back to them."

"Jack," Will said quietly. "There is no way."

"'Course there is! There has to be. Tell you what—I'll stab you in the heart and take your place. Just like the original plan. Eh?"

Will shook his head sadly. "You forget, I've already been stabbed in the heart. I'm technically already dead. If you take my place here, I'll be gone and then Elizabeth will have no one at all." He leaned back and shook his head. "I've been all over this with Calypso, Jack. There simply is no way for me to return to the land of the living."

"Calypso? You're on speaking terms with good old Tia Dalma?"

Will nodded. "Aye, of course. I'm in charge of the sea and she's the goddess of it. We speak regularly."

Jack shook his head, making a warding-off gesture. "I take back my offer to take your place," he said.

Will smiled. "You weren't afraid of Tia Dalma, but now that she's had her powers unloosed she scares you?"

Jack grimaced, thinking of all those rock-crabs chasing him through the salt desert of Davy Jones' Locker, and of the gigantic goddess that nearly sank the _Pearl_. "I'm just not all that fond of crabs unless they're on a plate, and I like my women to be somewhere near me in size." He sobered and leaned forward, chin on fist, gesturing with the other hand. "Will, this can't go on. Elizabeth needs her husband. You can't be with her, and I'm only her friend. We have to think of something, mate."

Will nodded. "I'll look into a couple of things. There may be some mystical possibilities I haven't found yet—but to be honest, I don't hold much hope." He hesitated, then reached for the rum bottle and took a long pull at it. Jack watched the level drop with alarm in his eyes, and when Will put the bottle down, Jack grabbed it away and cradled it in his arms like a jar of dirt.

Will smiled briefly, but then sobered, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "You know, if I had known what our married life would be like, I never would have married Elizabeth. You're absolutely right—she deserves so much more than I'm capable of giving her."

Jack snickered. "Always thought you were a eunuch," he said. His smile widened at Will's scowl.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Will changed the topic. "Tell me about what happened at Flimwell."

"Oh, yeah, wanted to ask you about that, in case any of the non-survivors came your way." Jack outlined what he had learned and what the village looked like, and the state of Elizabeth's house. "Only clue we got was that they were led by some woman in a big, feathered hat, and they were looking for something or someone that they didn't find."

Will frowned in thought. "Pirates found New Flimwell." He shook his head. "No, the victims must have all died ashore, because I hadn't heard of this before. Were the pirates after the heart of the _Dutchman,_ do you think? Wanting to control the ship of the dead? Because I'm not sure that would work out quite the same way with someone in charge who's actually doing the job properly."

Jack shrugged. "Your heart is safe in the hands of your dolly-belle," he said lightly. "That was pretty much all we could salvage from her house, but we did salvage it. Still thumping away."

"And the key is safe in the hands of my father," Will said. He looked up with a quick grin. "And you're one of only two people in the world I would trust enough to tell that."

Jack put his palms together and made a little bow.

"I just wish she didn't have to be alone," Will mused.

"Oh, well, I'm a step ahead of you there, mate. Turns out her only living family member, the governor's sister, was living in Port Royal. So we went and got her. She's with Elizabeth in Shipwreck as well."

"Really? What's she like?" Will hadn't known Elizabeth had any other family.

Jack grinned, thinking of how they'd first met in London. "She's a bit of all right," he admitted. "Hidden depths and all that. And she's like a mother lioness for taking care of Elizabeth and the baby."

"Wish I could meet her," Will said with a sincere smile. "Thank you, Jack. I'm glad to hear Elizabeth has someone, at least." He stood up. "I'll come find you in a few days for an update. And if you need to reach me before then—"

"I'll launch the _Pigeon_ again," Jack said with a businesslike nod.

Will smiled. "Thanks, Jack. For taking care of her. Of them. I'll see you soon."

Jack sighed with relief as he saw Will fade from sight, relocating back to the _Dutchman._ He shivered, uncorked the bottle again and look a long pull. Brushes with the _Flying Dutchman_ still gave him chills.


	18. Cameo

"Oh, Jack," came Will's voice from behind him. "One more thing."

"Ahh!" Jack yelped, startled, whirling around. He glared at Will with wide eyes, trying to calm his breathing. "Not sure if it's fair, Captain Turner, for you of all people to go frightening a man to death. It's not as if you've a quota to fill!"

"Sorry," Will laughed. "But I remembered something I thought you might like to know. I've a new cabin boy who told me some fairly lurid tales about you at the Fountain of Youth."

"Cabin boy?" Jack said, mystified. "But I thought he lived. You shouldn't have him yet. He ought to be Barbossa's cabin boy by now."

"No, no—he was a captain when I made him into my cabin boy. He said he knew you. Name of Teach."

"_Blackbeard_?" Jack exclaimed. "But he died inland! Why'd he go to you?"

"Not sure, exactly, except that he was a lifelong sailor who was killed by water. Guess that made him mine," Will explained. He shook his head in wonder. "I don't think I've ever met _anyone _more afraid to die than that man. Physically got down on his knees and _begged_ me to find room for him on my ship. Well, the only spot I had open was second cabin boy, so he took it."

Jack began to laugh. "Blackbeard your cabin boy!" he hooted. "Oh God, I wish I could tell Barbossa! He'd split his sides!" He laughed some more, but then had an ugly thought. "Oh, sod it. Barbossa's got Blackbeard's ship and his magic sword. It's only a matter of time before he comes after me precious _Pearl_ again!"

"Don't worry about that, Jack," Will assured him. "You've the _Dutchman _on your side if he does."

"I do? Oh. Right. Thanks." Jack looked a little puzzled over his good fortune, but didn't question it.

Will grinned and produced a new bottle of rum out of nowhere, which he handed to Jack. "You saved my family, Jack, and you helped me live long enough to have one. I owe you a lot. Helping you keep your _Pearl _is quite minor, really."

"Oh, well, you're welcome." He looked at the rum bottle. "Don't suppose you could teach me that trick?"

Will smirked at him. "'Fraid not. _Dutchman _captain's privilege."

Jack pouted. "You get all the fun."


	19. In League with Teague

While Jack was out talking with Will and sailing back to Flimwell, Elizabeth and Agatha were settling in at Captain Teague's house. Elizabeth was still easily tired, and Teague was delighted to have a new audience for his stories, so he and Agatha spent a great deal of time together. They very soon became friends, especially after Agatha broke the ice with him their first evening there.

Elizabeth had gone up to bed, with Jacob, shortly after supper. This left Teague and Agatha in the sitting room by themselves for much of the evening. Agatha asked him about the _Pirata Codex_, and how he became Keeper of it. It was a long story, but he alternated it with short riffs on his guitar, using the strings like punctuation. Agatha liked it, liked his wild looks that contrasted so much with his dry manners, his low, rough voice, and his obvious skill with the guitar.

He reached the end of the story and the song at the same time, and sat for a moment in silence while the echoes faded.

Agatha had been wondering something ever since Elizabeth had told them about her wedding earlier that day. "Captain Teague, do you mind if I ask you something about the Code?"

He moved his head in an invitation.

"Can you tell me what it says about pirate matrimony?"

Teague raised his eyebrows. He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him, and looked Agatha all over. He took his time, letting his gaze drop from her eyes slowly down the front of her body, lingering on her décolletage, then moving all the way down to her feet, and then slowly back up, giving her a lazy smile in response to the outrage on her face.

"I might not be adverse to the idea, darling, but let's get to know each other a little better first, eh?"

At her shocked squeak of dismay, he let out a low laugh. "Relax, ma'am, I'm only jesting with ye."

Agatha exhaled audibly in irritation. "I can see where your son gets it from," she told Teague.

"What's that, ma'am? Besides his dashing good looks?"

"He's an indefatigable flirt!"

"Just shows his good taste, ma'am. Which, between you and me, has been fairly abysmal up till now, so you can't expect me to scold him for charming a couple of ladies who are actually worth his time for a change."

Agatha blinked a couple of times. She was fairly sure Teague was hinting at something there, but she shook her head and let it go. "What about the pirate matrimony?"

"When pirates marry, it's pretty much the same as when anyone else does. There's nothing in the Code about it, if that's what you're asking."

"So... publish the banns, Book of Common Prayer, the usual sort of wedding ceremony?"

"Aye."

"Who can perform a wedding? A ship's captain, of course—but what if he's not on his own ship?"

"Nay, ma'am, no more than he could perform it on land. He'd have to be on the deck of his own ship for it to be valid."

"And what about the license?"

"Has to be signed by the captain, bride, and groom, and filed with the Registrar in the bride's home town. Just like any other."

Teague started to pick out a new song on his guitar while Agatha processed this information.

"Elizabeth said the captain didn't go through the whole ceremony and they ended up making their own vows to each other. No papers got signed or filed." Agatha recounted each thing aloud in disbelief.

Teague added, "Aye, and Barbossa is a dirty thief. He'd stolen my Jacky's ship from 'im. He wasn't captain of the _Black Pearl_ when he wedded them."

After several minutes, Agatha cleared her throat and asked, "You—you mean to tell me my niece's marriage is not valid?"

Teague shrugged. "I'm sure it is to them, ma'am. Miss Elizabeth ain't a strumpet or a doxy. She's a respectable girl—she's just not concerned with details overmuch."

"Yes, but such details as filing a marriage license—!" Agatha was dismayed.

"We could send word to Port Royale, to make sure," Teague suggested.

"Yes, I think we ought!" Agatha agreed.

They did not talk for some time while Teague played quietly. Agatha finally shook her head. "I won't tell her. Not yet."

"Pity her husband's gone so long," Teague said innocently.

Agatha agreed. "Ten years is a long time to be alone." She paused and then carefully added, "Your son has been a good friend to her."

"Aye, and he respects her," Teague agreed. He played a few more bars. "An' he likes the little one, too," he added.

"She speaks quite highly of him. And often," Agatha said.

He played for several more beats, at the end of which he looked up and met Agatha's sharp-eyed gaze with perfect understanding.

They both smiled.


	20. Dutchman's Curse

_Author's Note:_

_**Title:** I owe many thanks to Manechka, who helped me properly conjugate my Latin title. I do not know Latin, so I was depending on an online translator, which proved to be woefully inadequate. It took a real, live Latin teacher to help me get it right, and she was very patient and helpful with me. I had to change the title three times before I finally settled on "Protegit Ergo Amat." The literal meaning is "he loves, therefore, he protects." The more figurative meaning is more along the lines of, "out of his protection comes love." It is through the act of caring for her that he comes to care about her, in other words._

_**Flying Dutchman's curse:**_

_One reviewer asked me about the curse of the Dutchman's captain, whether he could only go on land every ten years, or whether after ten years the curse would be broken and he could be with Elizabeth for good. There are two different answers to this question. One is what the writers have stated in interviews, which is that if Elizabeth were faithful to Will for the ten years, his curse would be broken and he would be human again and could be with her._

_The other answer, which is what I am using as a basis for this story, is what the films actually showed. Namely, that Will would have ten years at sea for every one day on land. Support for this answer is given in AWE when Bootstrap Bill tells Will that it was a high price to pay for what had been done: "One day on land, ten years at sea," and Will replies, "Depends on the one day." Nothing is said here about Will's being able to live on land again after the ten years are up, but there is a great deal of emphasis placed on the "one day" line. This leads me to believe that it's only one day for every ten years._

_This view is also supported by what Calypso tells everyone about Davy Jones. "...And every ten years, him could come ashore and be wit' her dat loves him." She is the one who set the curse in the first place, and she didn't say "After ten years..." she specifically said, "Every ten years..." he could come ashore. So, there will be no curse-breaking. I really do not think Elizabeth would hang out on a hillside and wait around for the rest of her life, so that she could have one day every ten years with her husband. That's just not her, not the Elizabeth we have come to know and love. She's very much a proactive person. She wants something, she goes after it. She's a pirate, in that respect. She would not be content to spend the rest of her life waiting. Apologies to the W/E 'shippers._

_For the J/E 'shippers, I also believe that Elizabeth hung out with Jack quite a bit during the intervening decade. In the films, I don't believe they had an affair, but I do think they stayed friends and kept in touch. The after-the-credits scene in At World's End definitely points to some of Jack's influence in the life of young William Turner III. Look at his tricorne hat. Look at his outfit. Listen to what he's singing. I do think Elizabeth and Jack would have kept up with their friendship during most of that time, even if it didn't develop into anything else. I don't think that young Will's having an "Uncle Jack" would have been completely out of the realm of possibility... and considering the amazing on-screen chemistry Jack and Elizabeth shared throughout all three movies, I don't think a romantic relationship is outside the realm of possibility either, as long as they could find some way around the whole marriage-to-a-dead-man problem._

_So my opinion is that the writers changed their minds about the ending after the movies were already made, and then just tried to cover their tracks by saying that Elizabeth's faithfulness would have broken Will's curse. There is absolutely nothing in the actual movie that supports that view, and plenty that would support the opposite view. So that's what I'm using as a basis for this story, and that's the canonical support for it._

_Apologies that the author's note is longer than the chapter update, which is below. Must stick to those FFN guidelines, you understand!_

* * *

Jack asked around and found a few members of the Shipwreck community who were willing to help the settlers in New Flimwell. He loaded up the Black Pearl with some livestock, grain, tools, some lumber, and half a dozen retired pirates who thought they would try a quieter life than Shipwreck offered.

They sailed back to New Flimwell, where Jack and Gibbs went ashore with the helpers. They brought them, with some extra supplies, straight to the pub, and introduced them to the landlord, Mr Quimby.


	21. The Sparrow Hawk

Jack had found a few kind souls in Shipwreck who were willing to help the settlers in New Flimwell. They sailed back to New Flimwell, where Jack and Gibbs went ashore with the helpers. They brought them, with some extra supplies, straight to the pub, and introduced them to the landlord.

The landlord, a robust fellow by the name of Quimby, looked as if he had aged a year in the last couple of weeks. He was glad to see Jack again, but overjoyed at the extra help Jack had brought with him.

"Can't promise you much, gents," he told them, "as my inn is one of the last buildings standing. "But we'll be glad to host you at no charge. 'Preciate the help."

The village had been cleaned up some, and there was a brand-new graveyard just outside it, full of fresh graves. Where there had been houses and businesses were now lots of rubble and charred wood. There were about 19 villagers left alive, and most of them were more than willing to talk to the strangers, especially after they learned that they had brought help.

Thomas Hound was an obvious exception. As soon as he saw Jack, he slunk away quietly. No one missed him. His son Tommy was glad to see them both again, and happily shared what he knew.

Unfortunately, no one knew much more than they did last time. They were able to work out that the pirates spoke Spanish, sailed a big warship called _El Gavilón _, and their leader was a beautiful woman with long, black hair under her big, feathered hat. They had carefully examined every man's face before murdering him, and had ransacked each house as if looking for something in particular before looting it. The only thing that was a possible clue was that several people had heard the pirates say "Espero" over and over.

"Espero?" Jack muttered to himself. "Espero, espero, espero."

"What's that mean to us Englishmen, Jack?" Gibbs asked him.

"It means 'I hope,'" Jack replied. "Not an emotion usually espoused by pirates or their victims.

They went back to the pub and had a couple of drinks. The landlord came back over to chat with them.

"You know, I never got your name, mate," he told Jack. "I'd like to know who to thank for bringing us the extra supplies."

Jack exchanged glances with Gibbs. "All right, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't share it around, like, say, with the navy."

The landlord grinned. "Smuggling? Or piracy?"

Jack shrugged. "Let's just say that I'm a man who looks after his own interests by whatever means necessary, and leave it at that. Captain Jack Sparrow."

"_You're_ Captain Sparrow?" the landlord sputtered in surprise. "But why would a pirate bring help? And goats, and blankets? It was a pirate what sacked the town in the first place!"

"Not all pirates are created equally."

"I should say not! Well, thank you, Captain, and you can be sure I won't be giving your name to the Navy. If there's ever anything I can do for you, I am eternally in your debt and at your service."

Jack smiled. "I doubt that a few goats and blankets are worth a lifetime of debt, man, but thanks."

"And they're all from Shipwreck, you say? The pirate island?"

"Aye. Things were a bit different there, after we elected a pirate king."

"There's a pirate king?" the landlord asked, eyes bright with interest. He'd be able to gossip about this for weeks.

Jack remembered at the last minute that he had wanted the citizens of Flimwell to think Elizabeth hadn't survived the attack. "Aye, or did have. You knew her. Mrs Turner, up the hill," told him. He He left the man dumfounded, and, laughing quietly to himself, went with Gibbs up the hill to Elizabeth's cottage to see if they could find any clues as to who had made the attack.

The cottage looked worse than they remembered it; apparently the fires had kept on burning after they had left the last time, for there was less of the cottage actually there. They poked around in corners and under piles of ash and rubble and finally gave up. It wasn't until they were on their way out that they found something.

"Jack, look!" Gibbs called. He'd been trying to close the door, and he pointed out a bit of parchment that was folded up and stuck into a crack in the door. Very little of it actually showed, which was probably why they had missed it last time. Gibbs pulled it out and unfolded it and his eyes grew wide. "Uh, you remember how Mrs Turner said this seemed personal? I think it was. I just don't think she was the person it was aimed at." The note said _Jack Sparro_ at the top of it, but the rest was written in Spanish and Gibbs couldn't read it. There was no signature.

He handed the note to Jack, who read it and grimaced. "Bugger."

"What's it say?" Gibbs asked. "You know I can't read all that foreign chickenscratch."

Jack cleared his throat. "Well, the good news is, they weren't after Will's heart," he said. "The bad news is, someone wants me dead, and my _'whore and bastard' _along with me," he said with a grimace.

"Your _what_?" Gibbs exclaimed.

"'S what it says, mate." Jack shrugged.

"Think they mean Mrs Turner and little Jake?"

Jack scoffed. "Anyone who's dealt with us in the last three or four years knows that couldn't be true."

"Aye," Gibbs said thoughtfully. "But it was stuck into _her _door, and we do drop anchor here fairly regular, and Jack, ye do be visiting 'em often in the middle of the night. It could look suspicious to someone who didn't know about Will's involvement in the matter."

"Who wouldn't know about his involvement, though? All the pirate lords know. Most of them do want to kill me, but that has naught to do with Will or Elizabeth. Mostly for old wrongs. Or money. But this—this seems exceptional."

Gibbs shrugged. "Well, we have had recent experience with a Spanish woman who wanted to kill you. Also, I recall a certain speech you made once to a roomful of pirate lords, in which you mentioned something about the hellish fury—"

"—Of a woman scorned," Jack finished. "Oh, sod it. It's Angelica. It has to be. The attackers weren't all saying 'I hope, I hope.' They were asking about Sparrow!"

"Aye," Gibbs agreed. "Blackbeard's daughter."

"She _already_ had the hellish fury of a woman scorned, and now on top of that she thinks I've murdered her father. I don't know how she found out about Elizabeth living here, but she's obviously made a connection between us that the lovely Mrs Turner and I never made. Much to my everlasting regret," he added with a smirk.

Gibbs snorted in amusement. "So what now, Captain? Set sail and hunt for _El Gavilón _?"

Jack considered. "One ship in the whole Caribbean? And it's been several days, now, so no telling where they would have gone next. No, mate. Best we make for Tortuga. If anyone has news of the attack or the attacker, it'll be there."

Unfortunately, no one in Tortuga knew about a Spanish ship by that name, nor about a female captain with a big hat. Chewing his lip in thought, Jack gave orders to sail for Shipwreck, and retired to his cabin.

* * *

_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*_

* * *

_Note: What is the deal with "espero" and "Sparrow"? I have noticed, during my English teaching career, that Spanish speakers from Spain sometimes have difficulty saying an English word that starts with S, without adding an E in front of it. "Look at all the esnow," for example, or "I went to the estore." It's just an idiosyncrasy that some Spanish-speakers have when they are learning English. I imagined that when the Spanish attackers were saying an English word like "Sparrow," it might have come out sounding more like a Spanish word._

___El Gavilón_ means "the hawk." Hawks eat sparrows. It seemed appropriate.  



	22. Confessions

When Jack arrived in Shipwreck it was late, but he rowed himself ashore and went straight to his father's house. He rang, but Maggie the maid had already gone to bed. Captain Teague answered the door himself.

"Come in, boy," Teague growled when Jack appeared at his door. "What'd you find out?"

"Any chance of a drink first?" Jack begged. He really was not looking forward to this conversation.

Teague grunted and led him into the sitting room. He whistled for his dog, who trotted up with the keyring, and Teague used one of the keys to open the liquor cabinet. He found a bottle with a little rum left in it and tossed it to Jack, who thanked him with a quiet "Ta," and tipped it up.

"Learn anything useful?" Teague asked.

Jack gave him a wary glance. "Aye, and at the same time, a loud, echoing nay."

"Jack!" Elizabeth apparently heard his voice and came racing down the stairs. "You're back! Are you all right? What news?"

Agatha followed more sedately, smiling at the charming rascal in the sitting room. "Welcome back, Captain Sparrow."

"Auntie!" he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the hand. "So good to see you again. I was quite desolate without you on my ship!"

"Me or my jewelry?" she asked, counting her rings again. She held out her hand expectantly.

Jack dropped her ring into it with a suggestive laugh. "Not as much fun as last time I took something from you, was it?"

Agatha blushed like a girl.

Teague looked on with interest. "Jacky? You been a bad boy?" he asked.

"Oh, they met in London while Jack was running away from the king's soldiers," Elizabeth explained, sitting down. Agatha sat next to her.

Teague could clearly see there was more to the story. "Jack?" he pressed.

Jack shook his head and sat down opposite the women. "No, Dad, all I did was steal her earring."

"Stole her earring?" Teague and Elizabeth both repeated at the same time. Elizabeth sounded shocked and Teague, amused.

"With his teeth," Agatha supplied primly.

Teague's loud bark of laughter blended with Elizabeth's shocked gasp. Agatha sat there with a demure smile on her lips, and Jack with a wicked one.

"That's my boy, Jacky!" Teague crowed. "Chip off the old block, he is."

"Jack!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "How could you do that? Stole from my aunt, and in _such_ a manner!"

Agatha shook her head and patted her niece's hand. "Oh, Elizabeth, calm down, my dear. I'm sixty-five years old and my husband's been dead for fifteen years. If some handsome young rogue of a pirate swings into my carriage to nibble on my ear, I'd say it's definitely worth the price of an earring!"

Elizabeth's jaw dropped, but Jack laughed. "Must obliged for the testimonial, Auntie dear," he said.

Agatha told Jack sternly, "Although I should warn you that I won't be letting you get the other one so easily!"

"Duly noted," he said. He winked at her and said, "Also noted is that you _do_ plan on letting me get the other one."

"Scamp!" was all she said. "Well, it's late. I trust you'll all fill me in on the salient points tomorrow? Good night, my dears." She went upstairs.

Teague, amused at being included as one of her "dears," chuckled. "She's a firecracker." He nudged his son. "Jack, my boy, I didn't know you had it in you."

Jack shrugged, snickering at Elizabeth's disgruntled expression.

Finally Elizabeth sighed and admitted, "You must have made quite an impression, as she sailed over from England shortly afterward."

Jack laughed out loud. "I do try to leave 'em wanting more," he said expansively.

"At least she didn't try to slap you," Elizabeth said, chuckling as she remembered Will's story about looking for a crew with Jack in Tortuga.

Jack shrugged. "Could be worse. Last old flame I met tried to kill me. Several times. After I'd saved her life, several times. And for that, I made 'er immortal at the Fountain of Youth," Jack mused.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze and flushed.

Teague said nothing, his dark eyes darting back and forth between them.

Elizabeth said, sounding subdued, "And yet you say you're not a good man."

"How's that, love?"

"You saved my life over and over, and then I killed you. And for that, you made me the Pirate King and saved my husband's life." She wouldn't meet his gaze. "And mine, again, when you came to get me from Flimwell."

"Apples and oranges, love," he said, leaning forward to catch her eye. "Your killing me wasn't personal; you did what you had to do to save everyone else, and then you came back to get me out of Davy Jones' Locker. You were also the only one smart enough to know what we had to do to get the East India company off our backs. I don't blame you for it, not anymore.

"Angelica, on the other hand, is a conniving bitch who press-ganged me onto Blackbeard's ship, lied to me every step of the way, repaid me with attempted murder every time I saved her life, and tried to sacrifice me to save her father. When he was going to kill her to save himself, I turned the tables on them so now she blames me for his death. She's alive and eternally young, and is mad at me for not allowing her evil old dad to save himself at her expense."

Jack was obviously still bitter. He shook his head. "You're nothing like that, darling."

"She sounds like a pirate," Elizabeth said.

Teague cleared his throat and they both jumped, having forgotten he was there. "No decent father, even a pirate, would sacrifice his child to save himself," he stated. "Ever."

Jack nodded. "'S what I told her. That's really heinous, innit?"

"I've seen some awfully heartless pirates," Elizabeth argued.

Jack shook his head. "Love, you're one of the best ones I've seen. Eh, Dad?"

"'Struth. She's a natural."

"But it's one thing to pillage a fat merchantman, and another thing for you to expect little Jake to die so you could continue living." Elizabeth blanched, and he nodded grimly. "_That's_ what I'm talking about."

"I see your point, but..." Elizabeth lifted her chin and changed the subject. "Want to tell me why we're talking about your miserable love life in the first place?"

Jack grimaced and waved his fingers nervously. "Because she's the one who sacked and burned New Flimwell. I'm sure of it."

Teague started to laugh, a creaky, rusty sort of noise. "You really do have the most appalling taste in women!"

Jack ignored him.

Elizabeth asked, "Why would she do that?"

"Trying to get back at me, I think."

"Yes, but you've no connection with New Flimwell except for visiting me and Jacob, and you don't come that often. How would she even know?"

Teague cleared his throat. "To an outsider who isn't familiar with the epic romance between the governor's daughter and the _Flying Dutchman's_ captain... there could be some confusion. Ye do have Jack visiting regular-like," Teague pointed out. "An' ye do have a little dark-haired, dark-eyed son."

"Oh!" Elizabeth said, finally getting it. She sighed. "She wouldn't necessarily know that Jack only visits me as a friend." She went into deep thought.

"Not that I wouldn't claim the tyke if I _had_ got him," Jack said, "But if I had, I'd prefer to have some memory of the getting, if you know what I mean. Ouch!"

Elizabeth had kicked him. "Shut it," she ordered. "I'm thinking."

They couldn't come up with a plan that night, and it was already late. Teague and Elizabeth said goodnight and went to bed. At Teague's invitation, Jack headed upstairs to the room his father kept for him, but started thinking about Angelica's sacking New Flimwell, and couldn't get to sleep. He ended up back downstairs in the library for much of the night, reading and scratching the dog's ears. Around 4:00 AM he finally went back up and went to sleep.

* * *

_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*_

* * *

_Note: Jack's line "Aye, and at the same time, a loud, echoing nay," is paraphrased from Geoffrey Chaucer's line in "A Knight's Tale" "Yes, and at the same time a resounding no."_

_Also, there is a blooper in this chapter that I caught, but found too funny not to share. This is it: **Teague grunted and led him into the sitting room. He whistled for his dog, who showed up with the keyring, and used one of the keys to open the liquor cabinet. He found a bottle with a little rum left in it and tossed it to Jack, who thanked him and tipped it up.**_

_Take it as a little lesson on pronoun-antecedent agreement. The pronoun **always** refers to the last noun mentioned. Therefore, when I say "he" in the last sentence and "who" in the middle one-guess what? It's referring to the dog. Yessirree, I want a dog like that! __All I have to do is whistle for him and he'll come running, __unlock my liquor cabinet, rummage through for the best stuff, and offer it to my guests for me. _

_Even English teachers make mistakes sometimes, but our mistakes usually end up being "teachable moments." So learn from my error and always make sure your pronouns are pointing to the right nouns!  
_


	23. Unshackled

After staying up so late, Jack had a lie-in until late in the morning. Agatha and Teague both rose early and had a tête-à-tête over breakfast about something they had been planning. They came to an agreement, and Agatha went to the bottom of the stairs.

"Eliza, dear," she called up the stairs. "Would you come down here, please? Captain Teague and I would like to talk to you about something."

"I'll be right down, Aunt Agatha!" Elizabeth called.

She appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a simple dress, and holding a happy-looking little Jacob in her arms. He had finally managed to sprout another tooth and was showing it off proudly.

"Oh, what a dear," Agatha exclaimed. "He could probably do with some air, though. Let's see if Maggie can take him out for a bit, hmm?"

A few minutes later, with Jacob neatly bundled off with the maid, Elizabeth sat down in a chair opposite her aunt and her host. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, about your marriage, dear," Agatha said. "I know you've been studying the Code extensively with the captain here, but I'm not sure whether you knew that he is just as knowledgeable about non-piratical law."

Elizabeth looked at the old captain enquiringly.

"'Struth," he said. "Before I turned pirate, I was a solicitor in England. Very well respected, I was."

"Really? Then, if I may ask, sir... why turn pirate?"

"More honest," he told her, straight-faced.

"The point being," Agatha cut in, "that we both have some concerns about the legality of your marriage. You told us about your sudden, shipboard wedding. What happened afterward?"

"Aye, and spare no details," Teague ordered.

Elizabeth told them about the entire episode, starting from Will's "I've made my choice" and going all the way through their kiss. She told them about the battle in the maelstrom, about Jack's helping Will to stab the heart, and then rescuing her with the sail-parachute just as the crew cut out Will's heart and the Flying Dutchman went down.

At that, Agatha interrupted. "You raised a very fine, brave son, Captain Teague," she told him. "My compliments to you."

He touched the edge of his bandana. "Thank ye, ma'am. Jacky's a good boy, under all that swagger." He fixed Elizabeth with another keen-eyed look. "What happened after the battle, hey?"

Elizabeth told them about saying goodbye to everyone on the _Pearl,_ and going ashore with Will to consummate their marriage. She blushed furiously over that, but then she went on to tell them of her and Will choosing New Flimwell for her to settle in and wait out the next decade.

"That's it?"

"I guess so, Aunt. Why?"

"You just agreed to settle there and wait for him? For a decade? And do what?"

"Er, I'm not sure what you mean, Aunt Agatha." Elizabeth was puzzled.

"You're the Pirate King, dearie," said Teague. "You, my son, and Captain Turner pretty much saved the seas for every pirate an' free sailor on 'em. I think some might have had higher expectations of what you'd be doing with your time."

"Well, I do have a baby," Elizabeth said hotly.

Teague nodded. "Aye, but you didn't know it yet when you settled there. And the sprog's a complication as well."

"Complication? I don't know what you mean." Elizabeth bristled.

"Well, dear," Agatha began, sitting up very straight. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you are not really married. Your marriage is not valid."

"What?" Elizabeth cried.

Teague listed off all the reasons why their marriage was invalid. "No proper ceremony or proper vows. Barbossa wasn't the proper captain of the _Black Pearl_ and therefore had no authority to perform a wedding. Neither of you got a marriage license filed in Port Royal—I sent word and checked—and neither of you signed one. Nor did Barbossa. No paperwork. No witnesses. Your marriage isn't valid in the eyes of the law _or_ the church. Sorry, miss."

Elizabeth sat back, mouth open in shock. Her eyes began to well up, and Teague stood up hastily, In a rare show of affection, he crossed the room and gave Elizabeth's shoulder a squeeze before he left.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked her aunt. "Why did you tell me this?"

"I'm so sorry that I had to, dear," Agatha soothed. "I don't want you spending the next eight years marking time on a hillside. You're worth so much more—you're capable of so much more than that. I'd almost rather see you take up piracy again than waste your life away, waiting for a man who may see you as many as five times before you die of old age!"

"And what about Jacob?" Elizabeth asked.

"What about him?"

"If what you say is true, then he was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Isn't that what Captain Teague meant by 'complication'?"

Agatha's hand flew to her mouth. She'd been so concerned for Elizabeth that she hadn't thought of that. However, it wasn't all bad. "Well, dear, he bears the Turner name, and if your Will is a decent man as you say, then he will certainly acknowledge him. I don't think anyone but us need know that your marriage wasn't valid. To the rest of the world, you'd simply be widowed. And dear, Jacob will need a father. If you're free to remarry, then you can see that he gets one. If, however, you remain shackled to your absent, undead spouse—no matter how good a man he is—Jacob will _never _have one. As it is, he'll see him only once or twice before he's a grown man himself."

"Jack told me the same thing," Elizabeth mused. "Months ago." She looked up again, wiping her tears. "I'd like to be alone right now, if you don't mind, Aunt Agatha."

"Yes, of course, dear," Agatha said, and hurried out. She almost ran into Jack in the hallway, coming down yawning and looking even more unkempt than usual.

He must have noticed something amiss, for he frowned and asked "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm afraid Elizabeth didn't like some things I had to tell her about her marriage," Agatha said. "She'll need some time to adjust to the idea, I'm sure."

"What idea?"

"That she isn't really married," Agatha told him. Jack's eyes widened in surprise. Agatha went on, "Your father looked into things, examined the technicalities, and contacted Port Royale. It turns out Elizabeth's marriage to Will is invalid on several different counts. But as her friend, you must promise to keep this to yourself. With a little baby in the equation—well, I would hate for anyone to question his legitimacy."

"No one will do that. Will was thrilled to hear about his son," Jack told her.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "You've spoken to him?"

Jack nodded. "Aye. While I was gone I found a way to summon him without killing anyone. It's a unique method, though. Only my first mate or I can use it."

"Hmm. Jack, do me a favor and don't tell Elizabeth about that—not quite yet."

"May I ask why not?"

"Oh, I just don't want to confuse her at this point," Agatha said vaguely.

"Confuse her? Auntie, that girl's mind is like a double-edged sword. You're unlikely to confuse her."

Agatha smiled. "Her _mind_ may be, but her _heart_ is extremely conflicted. I just want her to come to terms with the fact that she isn't married, before reintroducing Mr Turner to the mix. Believe me, I do have her best interests at heart. The last thing I want is for her to hitch herself _legally _to that man, out of some misplaced sense of duty or girlish idea of love. And you know my niece, Captain Sparrow. You know what she would be likely to do if she knew she could contact Mr Turner. She'd demand to marry him properly, with no thought of her future, her son, you, me, or even her responsibilities here at the Cove."

"Aye, she might, at that," he replied with a grimace of distaste. "She's always been a bit of an idiot over that boy."

"She deserves something better than an absent spouse, and her son deserves a father," Agatha went on. "If she remains free, then she could marry someone who will actually be there with her."

Ah, he was hooked. She could tell by the gleam in his eye that the seed was well and truly planted. "All right, Auntie. I'll keep mum—for a little while, anyway. When she finds out that I can contact Will and kept it from her for any length of time, she'll kill me, and no one wants that." He gestured expansively as if to say _who in the world could possibly ever want to kill me_?

Agatha patted his cheek fondly. "You're a good boy, Jack, no matter what anyone says."

Jack grinned and bent down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Many thanks, Auntie dear."

She felt her fingers and her ears. "What'd you take this time? I don't seem to be missing anything!"

"Nothing, dearie—I just like to keep you guessing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go in and have a word with the non-Mrs-Turner."

"Go right ahead. She could probably use a friend right now, and I'm afraid she's not best pleased with me at the moment."

* * *

_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean

* * *

_Note: Teague's observation about the honesty of being a pirate vs. being a lawyer is a callback to one of my favorite lines spoken by the Pirate King in "The Pirates of Penzance." He says, "I don't think much of our profession, but contrasted with respectability, it is comparatively honest!" My favorite version of this show features Kevin Kline as the Pirate King and Linda Ronstadt as Mabel, the female lead, who falls in love with Frederic, the Pirate King's apprentice. It's currently available (as of April 2012) on Netflix if anyone is interested. It has absolutely nothing in common with Pirates of the Caribbean (except a handsome, charismatic pirate captain) but is an incredibly fun show anyway._


	24. A Bit of Comfort from a Friend

Jack went into the sitting room. Elizabeth was on the divan, crying. Jack sat down next to her; she turned away and tried to clean up her face and get herself under control.

Jack put his arm around her. "Won't do to pretend you're fine, darling, and I've already seen you in much worse states than this. May as well get it all out. I won't tell anyone." Slowly, carefully, as if he was trying to approach a wild animal, he pulled her closer until she gave in and turned to him, burying her face in his shoulder.

He leaned back against the divan, holding her close, and just let her cry for a few minutes. He stroked the back of her neck under her hair and rested his cheek on her head until she quieted.

"Did—did my aunt tell you?" She looked up at him without lifting her head from his shoulder.

He nodded, stroking her face with his hand, wiping away the tear-tracks from her cheeks. "I'm sorry, darling. I know you love the boy." He pressed his lips to her hair. "We'll figure something out, love," he told her gently. "It will be all right, I promise you."

"Oh, Jack," Elizabeth whispered brokenly. She reached out and touched his face in turn, stroking down his high cheekbones and down the side of his neck. She pulled his face closer and touched her lips to his.

For just the barest instant, he succumbed to the heaven of her warm, soft lips on his. But then he pulled back sharply and looked at her, eyebrows drawn together with concern. "No, love," he said.

"What? Why?" Elizabeth tried to kiss him again, but he turned his head aside and reached up to cover her mouth with his fingertips. "I need this, Jack."

"Not like this, love. You don't want this."

"How do you know what I want?" Elizabeth demanded. "Turns out I'm not married after all, and I'm throwing myself at you, in case you didn't notice!"

"I did notice," he replied soberly. "And I'd catch you if I didn't think it would make you would hate me."

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked, angry now.

"You don't want this with me, love," he told her. "If I thought for one second that you did, we wouldn't even be talking, but you don't. You want it with _Will_, and you'd be using me as a substitute for him. You'd hate me, you'd claim I took advantage of your grief, and you know you would." His eyes and expression were dead serious.

"Darling, I don't _ever _want to be something you regret. So... no. We're not doing this. Savvy?"

"I don't believe this!" Elizabeth was indignant. She jumped to her feet and turned on him. "I'm getting turned down by _Jack Sparrow_? The man with two girls in every port? The man who'll swive anything in skirts is turning _me _down?"

"Oh! Forgive me!" Jack got angry in turn. He stood up so he could make her a mocking bow. "Do pardon me, Your Highness, I beg you, for treating you like a friend and a lady! Now that I know your newfound freedom makes you want to be a port trollop, I'm sure you'll find plenty of men around willing to accommodate your desires. But they sure as hell won't be me!"

She slapped him. Hard.

His head whipped around and then he turned back slowly and glared at her. Eyes blazing, she started to strike him again, but he grabbed both of her wrists in his hands and jerked her closer. He bent down so he was at eye-level with her, scant inches away, and hissed, "_I didn't deserve that!_ **_I'm_** no more of a whore than you are. Think on that!" He spat out the last word, then let her go and headed for the door. He didn't slam it behind him, but let it close with a quiet click. He stood in the hallway for a moment, rubbing his cheek and grimacing in pain; Elizabeth had really put her shoulder into that slap!

He passed Agatha on his way to the door, and quickly dropped his hand. He nodded to her, touched his forehead in farewell, and left the house.

Agatha turned and watched him go, eyebrows drawing together into a frown, and then set her chin and went back into the sitting room.

Elizabeth was pacing back and forth, still angry. "Why did you send Jack in here, Aunt?" she demanded.

"I thought you needed a friend. If I'd known all you wanted was a punching bag, I'd have sent one of those in, instead," Agatha said, her voice hard.

Elizabeth whirled around to face her. "You don't know—"

"Oh, yes, I do!" Agatha cut in. "You demanded something from him that a lady has no business demanding. He refused to let you lower yourself—or him!—to that level. He treated you with respect and demanded the same from you, and you slapped him for it."

"Did he tell you—?"

"He did _not_. He was gentleman enough to pretend it hadn't happened, but I could see your hand print on his face, young lady! You must have hurt him; it was bright red! I hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but I don't think you realize how much your voice carries when you're angry. I must say, I am appalled at your behavior, Elizabeth, I truly am! I thought your father had raised you better than that. You have treated that young man shamefully!" Agatha was furious.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze, flushing a little. "I just wanted a bit of comfort from a friend," she said in a small, sulky voice.

"Yes, at the expense of your friend's broken heart!" Agatha scolded.

"What do you mean?"

"All the time he'd be 'comforting' you, he'd know he wasn't the one you truly wanted to be with. Eliza, if you say he's your friend, why do you torture the poor man so?"

"Torture? What are you talking about?" Elizabeth sank down on the divan, looking nervous.

Agatha sat down next to her and took her hand. "Why, he's in love with you, dear. Head over heels."

Elizabeth scoffed. "Jack Sparrow doesn't fall in love. He has women in every port, but he doesn't _love_ anyone. The only things he really loves are the sea and the _Black Pearl._"

Agatha smiled sadly. "Can you really be so blind?"

"But he's my friend! He's never said anything—"

"You've been married, dear. It wasn't his place to speak. I daresay he's shown you, though."

"Shown me?" Elizabeth stared off into space, remembering. "You mean… all those midnight visits... bringing me things I asked for… and taking care of me when I was ill...? But he's my friend, that's all."

"He's been considerably more than that, dear. He has gone far beyond the bounds of friendship. Brought us here, for instance. He brought you home to his father. Don't you think that, in all of the Caribbean, he could have found somewhere else for you to stay that would be safe for you? But no. He placed you in his _father's_ protection when your home became unsafe for you, and provided a companion for you while he had to be away," Agatha continued, indicating herself. "He's done a great deal for you, Elizabeth, and you've been extremely unkind to him. He has shown you kindness, care, and consideration—"

"—And in return I tried to make him into _my_ 'port doxy' because I'm lonely, and because I miss Will and was angry to find out I'm not really married to him," Elizabeth said miserably. "And this, on top of everything else I've done to him in the past. Oh, I'm so ashamed. Aunt Agatha, he's never going to forgive me."

"Oh, I daresay he will," Agatha said comfortably, patting her hand. "But you're still under the weather, and overwrought, and hungry. Have some breakfast and perhaps a nap, and when you feel up to it, we'll get all this sorted out."

Elizabeth nodded humbly. She really was tired. It had been more than a fortnight since she had left Flimwell, and aside from the constant and inconvenient level of exhaustion, she felt perfectly well again. She was still very thin, and so was Jacob, but what bothered her most was that she still couldn't get through a day without taking naps. Jacob was the same way, and he had lost some of his abilities in the illness. He could no longer support his own weight to sit up, though Cotton had assured her with gestures that when he was well enough to sit up again, he would. Likewise, when she was well enough not to need the naps, she wouldn't be falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

Clearly, she wasn't there yet. She ate breakfast, but her eyelids felt heavy by the time she had finished, and she headed back upstairs to sleep for the rest of the morning.

* * *

*_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*_

* * *

_Note: Jack's "I know you love the boy," and his kiss on her forehead is a callback to another of my favorite fandoms, The Phantom of the Opera. In that, Erik is deformed and deranged, and he has kidnapped Christine and Raoul, the boy she loves, and threatened everyone with death unless Christine will marry him. To save Raoul, she says she will, and then she lets Erik give her a kiss on the forehead. It is the first time he has ever been allowed to kiss anyone, because of his horrific deformities, and he breaks down crying, assures her that it will be all right, and that he knows she loves the boy. He releases Raoul and Christine to go and be married, while he stays down in the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera house until he dies. It is a beautiful and affecting story (and here's a shameless plug: I've published a sequel to the original novel) and I like making reference to the Phantom whenever I can._


	25. A Drop in the Ocean

At noon, Agatha woke Elizabeth with a light lunch and a hungry baby. Ever since the Pearl, they had fallen into the habit of eating lunch together, with Agatha helping Elizabeth to eat while she nursed Jacob. By the time they had all finished, Jacob had fallen asleep again. Agatha put him into his temporary cot (a pulled-out drawer in Elizabeth's dresser, of course) and helped Elizabeth get ready to go out.

"Maggie can stay with him while we go to the shops," she explained to her niece.

"Why are we going to the shops, Aunt Agatha?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, you have an apology to make to our good friend the captain, and men like presents just as much as ladies do. It wouldn't hurt to bring him something when you apologize. What does Captain Sparrow like?" Agatha asked.

"Rum," Elizabeth answered instantly.

"Very well, that's good for a start. What else?"

"The sea. The _Black Pearl_. Rings. His hat. I haven't seen his old hat for a long time, though. Perhaps he's lost it somewhere."

"You could find him a new one," Agatha suggested.

Sure enough, in one of the last shops they looked in, Elizabeth found Jack the perfect hat. It was a fine leather tricorne that looked quite similar to his old one, only this one was black instead of brown.

"Perfect!" Elizabeth said with a smile. "I'll have this one."

"Oh, very nice," Agatha complimented. "Captain Sparrow will look quite handsome in it, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," Elizabeth agreed. She waited while they found a box and wrapped it up for her, and then mentioned Jack's visit. "We were going to figure out a plan today, but that was when he was still talking to me. Perhaps I'll send him the hat as a peace offering, with a note."

When the note was written, Elizabeth tucked into the top of the hatbox and hired a dock hand to row it out to the _Pearl _for her. The note read:

_Dear Jack,_

_I am so ashamed of myself for what I said to you and the position I put you in, that I can't even express it. Once again, you were right about everything you said, and once again I must offer a wholly inadequate apology._

_I am sorry. _

_Again._

_By this point, I must owe you a favor so large it will take the rest of my life to repay. I realize this is only a drop in the ocean of what I owe you, but please accept this gift as the beginnings of a down payment. I hope you like it._

_Your friend, I sincerely hope,_

_Elizabeth Turner Swann_

"Turner" had been struck out with a thick, black line of ink. Jack raised a brow at that, and then set the letter aside and opened the box it had come with. Inside lay a beautiful, brand-new, black leather tricorne hat. He whistled as he lifted it out of the box, then grinned when he saw the bottle of rum that had been hiding beneath it. It was good rum, too, much better than he usually drank. No, this would have to be saved for a special occasion.

Not the hat, though. This was a wonderful hat. He might even have to clean up a little before he wore it, just to do it justice. For that matter, perhaps he ought to clean up a little anyway. If Elizabeth were both unmarried and apologetic, perhaps he could begin his own pursuit. But—he wrinkled his nose—no. It was still too soon. She'd had time to grieve over Will's absence, but now she needed some time to grieve the dissolution of her marriage to him.

Jack _would_ go and see her, though. She was still his friend, and if nothing else, they still had to come up with a way to find and deal with Angelica. And he _would _clean up a bit and wear his new hat for her.

He left Gibbs in charge and rowed to shore. He was a man on a mission. First, bath. Second, barber. Third... Elizabeth.

The bathhouse was small, but the room was private and the tub was large. Jack stripped down and sank into it, exhaling in hedonistic relaxation. He sometimes visited a hot spring or two among the islands, but rarely more than once or twice a year. What baths he did take were infrequent and usually in salt water. Lying up to his neck in steaming, clean, fresh water was an untold luxury, and he sighed with pleasure. Might have to think about doing this more often, he told himself. He undid his large plait in back while he lay there, and washed his hair with the soap. He'd specifically requested unscented soap, and he wrinkled his nose at the harsh lye scent-but figured it would be better than smelling like a perfumed lady. He took advantage of the opportunity to wash thoroughly, not knowing when he would next be able to avail himself of this amount of luxury. At any rate, he thought ruefully, Elizabeth oughtn't to complain about his hygiene.

When the water had cooled, Jack stood up and dried off. He rummaged through his duffel for the clean outfit he'd packed up and brought along. He pulled out the fresh linen shirt and was about to put it on when he noticed his old linen shirt on the ground. He picked it up and compared the two.

He'd thought his old shirt was white—until he compared it to a clean one, and then it looked brownish-grey. He grimaced and threw it back down. "Have to have Simon see to the laundry a bit more often," he muttered, pulling on the fresh shirt. His trousers were subjected to the same scrutiny and dismissal, and he pulled on the clean pair, followed by his boots. Nothing to be done about them, but his sash could definitely use some repair or replacement. He hadn't paid attention to his clothes for ages, but now that he looked at them he was dismayed. They were looking _extremely_ tatty. He'd have to see what he could find after he found the barber.

The barber, a dignified-looking older man with a tidy silver queue in back, raised a pair of rather skeptical eyebrows at the sight of Jack's bandana, dreadlocks, and trinkets. "Ye want to keep it all?" he questioned Jack's directions. "In that case not sure what I can do for ye, lad," he said.

"Aye, I want to keep it all. Just tidy it up a bit. Leave the locks alone, comb out the rest, re-plait the small plaits, and trim it so it's all the same length. Savvy? 'S not hard, is it?"

"Aye, I can do that. Shame about the locks, though," the barber mourned. "Ye'd have a fine, handsome head of hair if ye hadn't let it lock up like this."

Jack shrugged. "If it locks up, I don't have to comb it."

"Aye, but not combing it is what makes it lock up on ye," replied the barber.

Jack shrugged. "Failin' to see the problem, mate."

The barber just sighed and did as he was told. Jack was pleased with the results, and borrowed the barber's mirror to string his trinkets and beads back on, and to tie up his marlinspike again. He went back to the duffel for a fresh bandana (dark purple this time), and tied it on, carefully pulling out his new trinket and the marlinspiked bunch before re-plaiting the hair in back to keep the bandana on. "There!" he said with satisfaction, reaching for the new hat. He admired himself in the mirror for a moment; the black hat needed breaking in, but already he liked it just as much as his old brown one that he had (sadly) left behind in London a year ago.

"Very fine, captain," the barber remarked.

"Aye," Jack agreed. He squinted at his reflection. "Don't suppose you have any kohl?"

"Sorry, no."

"Ah, well, no matter. Sun's going down anyway." Jack paid the barber and left for his father's house, stopping only once at a clothier's barrow to trade in his sash for a less ragged one with blue and purple stripes.

He stripped off the old sash right there at the barrow, and the clothier started to complain until Jack glared at him and pulled out his pistol. The clothier's mouth closed with an audible snap, but all Jack did was put the pistol down on top of the barrow, along with his belts, baldric, sword, and other effects. He knotted on the new sash, then put the belts, sword, and pistol back into place.

"Many thanks," he told the clothier, flipping him a coin to pay for the new sash, before swaggering up the street to his father's house.


	26. Plots and Plans

Maggie the housemaid met him at the door. "Oh, Master Jack," she greeted. "The ladies 're waitin' on you in the sitting room, and yer feyther wished to know as soon as ye arrived."

"Well, best you go and tell him then, Maggie, m'dear," Jack said. "I'll somehow manage to find the ladies meself. I'm awfully good at finding ladies, ye know."

Maggie tittered and scurried off, and Jack made his way to the sitting room and went in quietly.

Elizabeth and Agatha were sitting there together, talking and playing with Jacob. Elizabeth's hair was curled and coiffed; she was wearing a dress; and he'd bet there was even a corset under there. Jack raised his eyebrows and blinked at the sight, and shook his head as if he were hallucinating.

"And suddenly, it's four years ago," he remarked idly. Elizabeth once again looked like the Governor's daughter.

Both ladies jumped, startled. He had time for a quick smile-and-nod to Agatha before Elizabeth leaped at him. "Jack!" she cried, running to him. It seemed like she would throw herself into his arms, but at the last minute she stopped short and grabbed his hand instead.

"Hello, love," he said. Moved by the same impulse, they both leaned closer, exchanged a quick brush of lips on cheeks, followed by a smile. "You're looking rather square-rigged, darling. What's the occasion?

"I am," Agatha told him.

Elizabeth shrugged. "She told me as long as I was on land and not working, I should dress as a lady. I must admit, I was wondering if I'd forgotten how."

Jack grinned. "Always said you should wear a dress..." he said, purposely not finishing the quote in front of her dignified aunt. He could tell she remembered the "...or nothing" by the way she blushed pink and cleared her throat.

"You're looking very fine as well, Captain Sparrow," Agatha told him. "Come and sit down by me, won't you?"

"With pleasure, Auntie dear." Jack removed his hat and sat down next to Agatha, and with studied casualness he extended his arm along the back of the divan behind her. Agatha gave him a sharp look, but then smiled and let it go. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his flirting, and resumed her seat.

"Now then," he asked her, "Are you quite finished misbehaving, love?"

Elizabeth laughed, a little ruefully. "I certainly hope so."

"Good. Let's see what we can work out."

Elizabeth rang for Maggie to come and put the baby to bed, and sat down in her chair with a businesslike air.

As they started talking about various plans and options for finding Angelica and her ship, Jack industriously unfastened Agatha's necklace singlehandedly from behind. He took his time about it, while still actively participating in the conversation, putting out some ideas and shooting down others. Teague came in and joined them. He didn't say much, but his dark eyes darted around everywhere, not missing anything. He noticed right away what Jack was doing, but he merely dropped one eyelid in a wink at his boy and said nothing. He watched Jack's progress with interest.

None of the ideas were practical without having a lead on where _El Gavilón _could possibly be, and Jack was getting frustrated. He interrupted his own sentence to reach over with his other hand and touch Agatha's earring, setting it swinging.

"Oh, those are nice, Auntie," he said, using the distraction to remove the necklace from her neck completely. "Fancy giving up one of those, dear?"

Agatha squeaked and grabbed for the earring—which was still in her ear—and said, "Don't you dare, you rascal!"

Jack laughed. "Pirate!" he informed her, surreptitiously dropping the necklace into his pocket.

"Tell me something I don't know!" she said acidly. "At least I caught you before you took it!"

Teague, across the room, quickly turned his laugh into a cough. "What, er, what were you saying, Jacky?"

"Just that I think we're going about this wrong. We already know Angelica wants to kill me, and we know she tried very hard to kill Elizabeth and Jake as well. Instead of us trying to chase her down all over the Caribbean, why not just let it be known where we are, and wait for her to come to us?"

"We could prepare a little surprise for her," Teague offered.

Jack nodded. "Precisely."

"Ambush, you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

Teague said, "Aye. Shipwreck's a good spot for one, ye see. She sails in, she gets surrounded."

"By whom?" Elizabeth asked sarcastically. "By pirates who just _love _to cooperate and defend each other?"

Jack grimaced and looked at his father. "She's got a point."

Teague conceded it, but added, "Well, we do have a few ships at our disposal."

"True," Jack said, thinking of his sack full of ships-in-bottles that Gibbs had stolen from Blackbeard. Crewing them all would be a challenge, though. Thinking of Blackbeard made him think of Will, and then he smiled. If he played it right, they might even have the _Dutchman_ at their disposal. He blinked and came back to himself as Agatha stood up. He rose as well.

"Well, it's getting late, my dears. I'm for my bed, but I'd like a word with you first, Jack, if you don't mind."

"I'm at your service, Auntie," he gallantly assured her, making for the door and holding it open for her.

Out in the hallway, she beckoned him away from the sitting room so they wouldn't be overheard.

"I've been thinking," she said, "About Elizabeth's husband. Or, non-husband, as I suppose it is. You say he's a friend of yours, and a good man. Do you think you could possibly arrange a meeting for us? Without Elizabeth's knowledge, I mean. I would like to meet him before she sees him again."

"Aye, that's easily done. Tomorrow, if ye like, Auntie. Is Elizabeth still sleeping a lot?"

"Yes, she usually naps after breakfast and after lunch, at least. Sometimes in the evening as well."

"So we'll leave when she falls asleep in the morning, and you can leave her a message that you're out shopping and will be back later. Will that do?"

"Perfectly, thank you."

"Auntie, if I may ask... why don't you want Elizabeth to know?"

Agatha smiled sweetly at him. "I just want a word with him before they meet again, that's all. Good night!" She patted Jack's cheek and headed up the stairs.


	27. Forgiveness

Jack returned to the sitting room, where Teague was also beginning to yawn. "Oh, there you are, Jacky. I was just saying goodnight to Miss Elizabeth. You staying the night?"

"Hadn't planned to. I'll stay for a bit longer, if Elizabeth doesn't mind, but then I'm headed back to the _Pearl_. Got some things to see to."

"'Night, then, son. Miss 'Liz."

"'Night, Dad." "Good night, Captain."

Jack sat back down opposite Elizabeth and looked at her critically in the lamplight. Her face had filled in quite a bit, but she was still much too thin—and her thinness was exaggerated by the tightly-laced corset she wore—and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"You should get some sleep as well, love," he told her. "We can always talk tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I woke up from a two-hour nap shortly before you arrived. I won't be sleeping before midnight tonight."

Jack felt a little restless. "Want to come out for a walk with me?"

She smiled. "Love to."

They left the house together, heading in unspoken accord down to the docks.

"You do look quite handsome this evening," she told him as they walked. "I meant to tell you earlier. I don't think I've ever seen you this pulled-together."

"Yeah, I thought I'd spruce up a bit," he answered with studied nonchalance. "Had to do justice to me new hat, you see."

Elizabeth said nothing, but took his arm as they walked. He gave it a little squeeze against his ribs. They reached the docks and looked out over the water at the _Black Pearl_, floating in the cove.

"She is lovely, isn't she?" Elizabeth said.

Jack agreed. "That she is." He stood there in silence for a moment, and then he turned to Elizabeth.

"Figure I owe you an apology for this morning, in my own right," he said. "I knew ye were grieving and not really aware of what ye said. I should've kept me temper and not shouted back at you. I'm sorry about that, love."

"No, no—it was my fault entirely. I seem to always misjudge you and say the wrong things." She smiled up at him. "I _am_ glad you're such a forgiving man. With me around, you really have to be!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry about it, love. Although I _do_ like the idea of you spending the rest of your life repaying me! Have to see what I can come up with, eh?"

"Jack!" She cuffed him on the shoulder.

He laughed and put his arm around her, pulling her close for a one-armed hug. "Relax, 'Lizabeth. Don't you trust me by now?"

She exhaled sharply, shook her head, and put her arm around his waist to return the hug. "You know I do. I just don't always like to!"

"Finally, the truth!" His gold teeth shone in the moonlight.

"Oh, shut it." She turned him around the way they came. "We ought to be getting back."

They started walking, arms around each other for a few steps before separating and walking arm-in-arm again.

"I meant to ask you," Elizabeth began, "Will your crew object to staying around here for however long it takes for Angelica to show up? It could be weeks."

He shook his head. "We've been at sea almost constantly since I got 'em all out of the bottle, and we've had a pretty good run of luck. Even took a Spanish payroller a while back. Means we've got plenty of plunder for a change, but haven't stayed anywhere long enough for 'em to spend it. No, I imagine they'll be just fine with staying here for a while. I'm thinking about careening the _Pearl_ anyway. Poor girl needs some attention paid her, after the hardships she endured with Barbossa."

"Oh, the poor thing," Elizabeth commiserated, just as if the Pearl were a real lady. "So what's the bottle story?"

"Some other time, darling. Anyway, I really ought to let Gibbs tell it. He's the one what brought the goats."

"Goats?"

"_Definitely _some other time." He changed the subject. "So how'd they find out about your marriage, anyway?"

"Our first night here, my aunt wanted to hear about my wedding. Then recently she's been spending time closeted up with your father, and she says they investigated every detail and found it invalid."

Jack shook his head. "Didn't I warn you about not telling things to Teague?"

"Yes, but—I just didn't think telling them about my wedding would be harmful!"

"Lesson learned, I hope?"

"Definitely."

They arrived back at Teague's house and returned to the sitting room. Jack had been rather quiet on the walk back, and Elizabeth asked him about it. She sat down and followed him with her eyes as he paced the room.

"Something on your mind?"

"Aye."

"Care to share?"

He stopped pacing and looked down at her. "You know it won't be as easy as Angelica just sailing into an ambush," he warned. "She's a smart woman with a well-armed ship, a huge crew, and she's a very good swordsman herself. In fact," he continued thoughtfully, "If you haven't been fighting much in the last two years, you should maybe get in some sparring, love. If you're out of practice, she'll wipe the ground with you if it comes to that."

Elizabeth agreed. "You're probably right." She laughed a little. "Poor Aunt Agatha! She was so pleased that she'd managed to get me into dresses again!"

Jack grinned. "It's all one to me," he told her. "I think you look just as nice out of your dress as ye do in it."

"Jack!" She threw an antimacassar at him.

He laughed. "I just meant shirt and trousers instead of a dress, love!" He shook his head in mock sorrow. "Dearie, dearie me, when _will_ you stop thinking all these lewd and salacious thoughts?"

"Ohhhh!" Elizabeth stood up and stomped across the room. She folded her arms and turned around to face him. "Porbably not as long as I associate with _you_," she growled.

"Oh, so I'm your inspiration for salacious thoughts? I'd long suspected that was the case, but I'm somewhat surprised at you being so forthright about it. Not that I mind, of course."

Elizabeth turned her back on him, staring fixedly at a portrait on the wall. She ground her teeth, but said nothing.

_[See footnote]_

Jack laughed. "On that note, I'd better take me leave," he told her. On an impulse, he reached out one daring hand and brushed his fingers gently against her cheek. "Good night, 'Lizabeth." And he put his hat on and was gone.

* * *

_***[Note: There is a bit more dialogue that originally went here, that deals with Jack's family background. I decided to cut it out, as it didn't contribute much to the plot movement; however if anyone is interested I may add it in after the epilogue. Rather like a "deleted scene" on a DVD.]_


	28. A Sound Scolding

Next morning Jack met Agatha for breakfast, to take her to his ship afterwards.

He had already been surprised at her wanting to go out and meet Will without Elizabeth's knowledge, but he was downright astonished when she told him she wanted him to argue with her and take issue with everything she was about to say to Will.

"I think you won't regret it," she said crisply—and more to the point, she offered him his favorite ring off her hand if he agreed and performed to her satisfaction.

It required a little arranging and slight deception to avoid Elizabeth's suspicions, but they finally made it. Jack sailed the Pearl, with Agatha aboard, out of the cove into the open sea, and then launched the _Pigeon_ again. The message this time read:

_Will,_

_You got your wish. Elizabeth's aunt wants to meet you._

_Jack_

The Dutchman surfaced, water pouring off the deck, and Will appeared on the deck of the _Pearl_ only a moment later. The crew were still obviously uneasy with his presence. Two of them still tried to spit and spin surreptitiously. Gibbs was the only one who stood his ground, smiling and nodding a greeting to Will.

Jack waved him into the captain's cabin, where Agatha waited, sitting in one of the chairs as if it were a throne. He introduced them.

"Will, meet Elizabeth's Aunt Agatha. Auntie, this is Will Turner, your nephew by marriage."

"A pleasure, ma'am," Will said with a warm smile and a little bow.

Agatha sat up very straight. "Is it, indeed? I am not pleased, Mr Turner. I am not pleased at all."

"Beg pardon, ma'am?" Will asked, astonished.

"You expect me to be happy to meet the man who entrapped my niece in a fraudulent marriage, got her with an illegitimate child, and then abandoned her to go sailing about for the next decade?"

Will blinked opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Oh, sit down," Agatha ordered irritably.

Jack slid into his usual chair, and Will pulled out another and sat with alacrity.

"What do you mean, fraudulent marriage, Auntie? They were married right here on the deck of the _Pearl_." Jack's face looked suitably puzzled, and Agatha tipped him a very subtle wink.

"By you?" she asked sharply.

"Well, no. It was that scrofulous thief, Barbossa," Jack replied.

"Only the rightful captain of a ship has the authority to perform a marriage." She turned back to Will. "Did this Barbossa go through the whole ceremony? Did he even have a _Book of Common Prayer_?"

"Er, no," Will said.

Jack jumped in again. "They were in the middle of a battle, dearie. No time for the whole thing."

"'Marriage is an honorable estate, not to be entered into lightly,'" she snapped out the quote. "What about the vows? Did you make proper vows?"

"Er, Barbossa was a little busy. We sort of made our own."

"Invalid marriage vows. Did you at least get a license and file it in Port Royale?"

"License?" Will asked, confused.

"No license, no proper vows, no proper ceremony. Were there witnesses?"

"Yes, of course there were witnesses!"

"Most of whom you killed, though," Jack pointed out.

Will gave a shrug and grimace of reluctant agreement.

"No witnesses. There is nothing about your marriage that was valid, Mr Turner! You, sir, have dishonored my niece. You are a cad!"

"I'm... sorry?" Will said. He looked fearfully taken aback. He swallowed and tried to regain control of the situation. "For what it's worth, ma'am, I _have_ considered us married, and so has Elizabeth."

"I know she has, which is more than you deserve, young man! I tell you, it was not the act of a gentleman to go ahead and consummate such a marriage, with the full knowledge that you would be gone for a decade. It was, in fact, the act of a self-centered swine. You removed any hope of her getting it annulled, and then you abandoned her. No help, no money, no prospects, and no friends except for Captain Sparrow, here."

Will looked around rather desperately. Jack was no help—his mouth had fallen open like a fish's, and he looked astonished.

"Aunt Agatha, I assure you—" Will began.

"Don't you dare call me Aunt! I am no aunt to a miserable cur like you!" Agatha cried, furious.

William frowned at Jack. "Did you put her up to this?"

Jack shook his head and made a _hands off_ gesture. "I'm as surprised as you are, mate. She's always been perfectly sweet to me."

"That's because unlike this utter bounder who _alleges_ to love my niece, you've actually looked out for her welfare!" Agatha told him. "Pirate or no, you've been more generous than this neglectful, parsimonious lout!" She smacked Will on the shoulder and he cowered.

"Half a mo'—he can't help his being neglectful, but parsimonious? Auntie, you can't get on him for that. It's not as if ferrying the dead is a paying gig," Jack protested.

She snorted. It was a dainty, ladylike snort, but it was definitely scornful.

"Lord of the seas, you told me he was," she scoffed, contempt dripping from every word. She gave Will another withering glance. "Do you dare to tell me that you can't find a sunken treasure ship, or a pirate's hoard, or anything like that, Mr Turner? So that the woman you _claim_ to love might be able to at least look after herself and the child you gave her before you disappeared? You're the one who left her all alone in a village full of people who despised her!"

"What?" Will was still stunned. He looked to Jack for confirmation. "Really?"

"Aye, they did," Jack nodded confirmation. "I already told you that." His mind had caught on his favorite word. "Treasure?" He cuffed Will's other shoulder. "Aye, if you're lord of the sea, you ought to have access to all the sunken treasures through the ages! Even the one at Isla de Muerta, which was reclaimed by the sea. It was only the coins that were cursed, mate."

Will glanced at him. "Oh, aye, I know where that is," he said. "And I could put my hands on a dozen more if I wanted. I just never thought of it.

As Agatha's face gathered thunderclouds, Jack nudged Will. "I'd advise getting right on that, mate, before she blows again!"

"Right." Will hastily disappeared.

Jack gave Agatha an admiring glance. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, dear Auntie."

She exhaled heavily and her lips curved in a prim smile. "Treat my niece and me properly, and you won't."

"There!" Will was back, with a small cloth bag, which he shook out over the table. Several enormous pearls rolled out.

Jack whistled.

Agatha sniffed. "Well, it's a start." She glared at Will. "Did you realize that you set her up to pass her decade of waiting for you in no better state than a disgusting _hovel _in a _fishing _village? Were you aware that she had to draw all her own water from a stream, get all her own wood for her fire? Completely alone, with not a single friend or servant to help her. Not even with the baby. She, the daughter of a governor! No one in the village would help her, because they all thought she was no better than she should be. Even if that were true, _you're_ the one who made her that way! I have nothing further to say to you. Good _day,_ Mr Turner!"

With one final finger-wag and a sharp nod, she pocketed the pearls and stalked out of the cabin onto the deck, slamming the door behind her.

Jack and Will exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Finally Will blew out his breath in what was almost a chuckle. "Can't thank you enough for introducing me to my in-laws, Jack," he said sarcastically.

Jack shook his head. " I'd've warned ye if I'd known she was going to blow up like _El Popo_, mate. Best you be off now, and show up with a proper treasure, though. _'Just never thought of it,' _indeed," he mocked.

"It's true. I ferry the dead; I don't look for lost treasure. What good would it do me?"

"Might provide for your wife and child."

"Wife?" Will said bitterly. "Apparently not. Think she's right? Is our marriage not valid?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess not. She's been conspirin' with me dad for a couple weeks now, an' he knows the laws better'n any other pirate alive. If he says you're not married to 'er, then you're not. Sorry, mate." He rummaged around in his desk, but didn't find a bottle of rum. He held out his hand to Will, snapping his fingers expectantly.

Will sighed and produced a bottle from nothingness like he had done before, and handed it to Jack, who uncorked it and took a swig. Then Will snapped his own fingers for Jack to hand it back to him. Jack reluctantly handed it back and Will took it and drank.

"Of course you realize that whatever treasure you manage to produce will only be a stopgap measure," Jack remarked. "She still needs her husband. We're going to have to think of some way to free you, Will."

"Dere is no way," came a woman's voice from the corner, where the shadows coalesced into the human body of Calypso.

Jack stood up to greet her. "Calypso!" he greeted, sounding a little nervous. "Or do you prefer Tia Dalma, as I used to call you?"

The woman wore a dress made of seaweed, and had tiny starfish decorating her dreadlocks the way Jack wore trinkets and beads in his. "You can call me Tia Dalma," she said, not taking her eyes off Will. "Captain Turnah can call me anyt'ing he likes." Will smiled at her.

"Oi!" Jack protested. They both ignored him.

"Hello again, William Turnah. How you likin' your destiny?" she asked, floating over and caressing his face.

"Not what I expected it to be, but you knew that."

"I know many t'ings, William Turnah. 'Bout your destiny and 'bout your marriage also."

"Tia, what are you doing here?" Jack asked. "Just drop in to discuss matrimonial law, or was there another purpose?"

"Did you know my marriage wasn't valid?" Will asked, capturing her roving hand in his and staring up at her intently.

"It don't matta," she told Jack, turning her head in his direction but still keeping her hold on Will's hand. "Wheddah it valid or not, it over now. Marriage last till deat' do dem part. He died. Dey parted now."

Jack's mouth fell open. He had been so very careful to respect their marriage that he had never stopped to think that Will's death nullified it. Which meant that Elizabeth was free. Which meant that it didn't matter whether she could get an annulment or not—

"—She could remarry," he muttered to himself. Too late, he realized he'd said it out loud and looked up, cringing, to see their responses.

Will was giving him a very thoughtful look, while Calypso was smiling hugely.

Jack cleared his throat. "One more thing, Will," he said, changing the subject. "The woman who tried to kill Elizabeth and little Jake in New Flimwell is going to be coming to Shipwreck Cove to try and attack them again. Me dad and me are going to mount a defense, but can we count on your support if the battle doesn't go as it ought?" He purposely didn't mention that she was an old flame of his, figuring that while it probably _would _come out sooner or later, it might as well come out _after_ he had secured the _Dutchman's_ help.

Will hesitated. "Ordinarily I am supposed to stay out of these things, but—"

Calypso interjected, "You may protec' your family, William. An' de Turnah name."

"Thanks, love," both Will and Jack spoke at the same time. They looked at each other. Will reddened a little. Jack raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Will cleared his throat. "Er, well, yes. Just let me know when you need me, Jack." His tone was very businesslike.

So was Jack's. "Right, I'll launch the _Pigeon_."

"Tell Elizabeth's aunt I'll be in touch about that matter we discussed."

"I shall."

Will gave Jack a sharp nod, took Calypso's hand, and the two of them faded from sight. Jack raised his eyebrows and shook his head. It looked as if Will hadn't been quite as lonely as Elizabeth had thought.

At any rate, they now had the _Dutchman _on their side as well, and that's what he told Elizabeth when he and Agatha arrived at her meeting with Teague that afternoon.


	29. A List of Assets and Barbossa

"On our list of assets," Jack announced, striding into his father's sitting room with Aunt Agatha that afternoon, "We have the _Dutchman_."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

Jack and Agatha exchanged glances. "I found a way to contact Will," Jack said slowly.

"When? How? Have you seen him? Spoken to him?" Elizabeth asked eagerly.

"Recently, monkey, yes, and yes," Jack replied quickly. "He sends greetings, but more to the point, he's fully prepared to lend a hand—and a ship—should we need his help against Angelica's attack."

"You contacted Will and didn't tell me?" Elizabeth asked, rising sharply. "How could you keep that from me?"

Agatha elbowed her gently in the ribs. "Sit down, Elizabeth. Don't you get after Jack for not telling you. I asked him to contact Mr Turner for me, and I asked him not to tell you." She sat on the divan, tugging her niece to sit back down beside her.

"But why, Aunt?"

"For reasons of my own, which I'll be happy to share with you after we get this Angelica problem solved. For now, I really think we ought to concentrate on that, don't you?"

"Well spoken, ma'am," Teague agreed. "With all due respect to the pirate king, the life-threatening problems come first."

"And Angelica has proven herself to be a life-threatening problem," Jack said. "Repeatedly."

Elizabeth gave him a hard look, but then sighed and let it go. "So we have the _Black Pearl_ and the _Dutchman,_" she said. "What else do we have?"

"We also have my _Enforcer,_" Teague offered.

"The _Enforcer_? Dad, this isn't a Pirate Lord action. It's a vendetta," Jack protested. "It's personal."

Teague shook his head. "Shipwreck Cove is a pirate haven. It has always been so. If there is a pirate coming here for the sole purpose of attacking other pirates, well then, it's not much of a haven, is it?"

"But Dad, we're the ones setting her up to come here to attack us!"

"That doesn't matter, Jacky. If she's planning to come here to attack you, the reasons don't matter; she's betraying all of Shipwreck Cove. Then it does become an issue what involves the Code, the Keeper of the Code, and even the _Enforcer_ _of the Code_. She stands ready, son, as does her captain."

Jack swallowed, moved. Teague had such a reverence for the Code that it was odd to see him manipulating it thusly for Jack's sake. "Thanks, Dad," he said. He cocked his head as a new thought struck him. "If it's an action against the Cove itself, we also have four long-nines on the hill," he said. "And a couple of swivel guns at the mouth of the cove, but they'd have to get pretty close for those. The long-nines would do better."

"Aye, we can round up some gunners without a problem," Teague agreed.

"Marty's my best gunner, but I'll need him on board," Jack said thoughtfully. Then he snapped his fingers suddenly. "Barbossa. He's sailing the _Queen Anne's Revenge _now. Her father's ship. Pity we couldn't get him in on it."

Teague shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I, er, I might possibly be able to get a message to Barbossa, if you're serious."

"Eh?" Jack was startled.

"He is a member of the brethren court," Teague explained. "As Keeper, I can summon him, and technically, as King, Captain Swann can command him. He is bound to obey, or lose his standing among the brethren."

Jack and Elizabeth exchanged significant looks, and then seemed to come to an agreement.

"Aye, call him," Jack said.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. She looked back at Jack. "What's in it for him, though? I'd rather not just issue commands, but Barbossa never does anything without some gain for him."

Jack shrugged and addressed his father. "Can we simply request that he come, without making a formal summons? If we tell him who he's coming to fight, that might be enough for him. He wasn't best pleased with Angelica, either, as I recall. She was the one who led Blackbeard to the _Pearl_ in the first place, thinking I was captaining her."

Teague nodded. "Aye, we can do that."

"So then we'll have the _Queen Anne's Revenge _and the _Black Pearl _and the _Enforcer_," Elizabeth said, counting them off on her fingers. "As well as the _Dutchman _if we need her. That ought to be more than enough, even against a warship. It only took two to take out the _Endeavour,_ after all."

"Beckett wasn't fighting back, though," Jack pointed out. "Angelica will be. And I doubt she'll be alone. We could get into serious trouble if we underestimate her, 'Lizabeth."

"Hmm. Pity Tai Huang couldn't get here in time. I wouldn't mind having the _Empress_ here for this, either," Elizabeth mused.

"We'll do well enough," Teague told her. "Don't worry about it, Captain Swann."

Elizabeth flashed Teague a quick smile at the title, which she hadn't heard for some time.


	30. Backstory and Blame

That night when Jack made his daily visit to his father's house, Maggie met him at the door with the baby on her hip. She told him Elizabeth was in the sitting room, and the captain and Mrs Ainsley-Swann were together in the captain's study, not to be disturbed. "Plotting and planning," Jack speculated under his breath, as he entered the sitting room.

"What's that?" Elizabeth asked, not quite hearing him. She looked up from her sewing.

"I was just wondering if we should be afraid, with your aunt and my father closeted up together again. Last time they did that, they found out you weren't married. What's it going to be next, I wonder?"

Elizabeth smiled a little and shook her head, but seemed preoccupied. She was sewing a new shirt for little Jacob, but after the second time she didn't respond to Jack's conversation, he went and sat down next to her on the divan.

"All right, love. Let's have it."

"What?"

"Whatever's eating at you."

"I'm curious about something that I'm quite sure you probably don't want to tell me," Elizabeth said with a cynical tone.

"Tell you what?"

"About Angelica."

"Eh?"

"Start at the beginning."

"What? Why—why d'ye need to know about her?" His gaze darted about nervously.

Elizabeth sighed. "Jack, she tried to kill me because of you. I think I deserve to know. What did you do to her?"

"What makes you think I did something to her?"

Elizabeth cracked a smile. "Are you saying she randomly wants to kill you for no reason?"

"People often do," he said.

"Oh, and you never do anything to warrant it?" she taunted. "No, let me guess. You seduced Angelica and then ran away. You probably stole something from her in the process. Now she's jealous of any other woman in your life, and is out to kill you. Am I right?"

Jack huffed out a bit of a self-conscious laugh. "I guess you've hit on the high points, yeah. Bit more to it than that, though."

"So tell me. All of it. It won't go any further than me, I give you my word."

"Darling, I'd really rather not. The details don't exactly show me in the best light."

Elizabeth took his hand in hers. "Jack, we're friends. I know loads about you already that show you in a _terrible _light, and I still care about you quite a lot. Tell me."

With a sigh and a grimace of reluctance, Jack told her the whole sordid tale. He had been wandering drunkenly around Seville, when he saw a beautiful young girl stopping to smell a flower outside the high brick wall of a convent. She was a young novice on her way back in for the evening and had been distracted by the flowers. He stopped to speak with her, and ended up charming her into staying out all night with him. The actual seduction, he was careful to point out, had not happened that first night—but by morning the damage to her reputation was done, and she had been afraid to return to the convent at all.

She'd had nowhere to go, so Jack (out of the goodness of his heart, he said innocently, and Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow) took her in. During the course of this generosity, there may have been certain exchanges of a carnal nature between then. A _very_ carnal nature, he clarified thoughtfully, and quite a few exchanges. He had found the young Angelica very beautiful and appealing in her innocence, especially as she was such a quick and uninhibited study in matters of the flesh.

The _Black Pearl_ had been undergoing repairs (this was before Barbossa's mutiny), so Jack had been at liberty to spend several weeks with her in Seville. During that time, he admitted, there had been some "stirrings," in his heart towards her—perhaps even as much as "feelings" for Angelica. For her part, she had completely opened her heart to him, confessing not only how much she loved him, but also about her childhood, her longings to meet her father someday, her hopes for Jack to take her sailing all over the world.

Jack went along with all of it, freely promising her everything she wanted. It was such a pretty dream that he wanted to indulge himself—and her—as long as possible. However, as soon as the _Pearl_ was repaired, he stole one of her rings and sailed away in the night without her.

He had moped about the _Pearl_ for days, until Gibbs had bearded him in his cabin and demanded to know what was wrong. Jack had told him it involved a woman; Gibbs advised him to get a stuffed toy to sleep with instead, as they were much less trouble. That very day they took a Dutch fluyt filled with valuable cargo, and Jack cheered up immensely.

Listening, Elizabeth smiled. So far, none of the story was surprising except for the "stirrings" that Jack mentioned feeling. But she supposed that even 'Captain Jack Sparrow' might have an actual heart hidden somewhere deep inside. Her aunt certainly thought so, but Elizabeth knew of his conquests in various ports and was still a bit skeptical. Besides, hadn't he once told her that his "first and only love" was the sea?

"Go on," she said.

Jack went on. The next time he saw Angelica was three years later on La Martinique. He hadn't given her much thought during the intervening three years, but when he saw her there, suddenly her appeal came roaring into the forefront of his mind. He told her a cock-and-bull story about having been press-ganged in Spain so that she would forgive his desertion, and then their love affair had flared up again like a wildfire.

She was a little different now: earthier, less naive, more cynical. She didn't dress like a novice anymore—"She dressed more like a professional," Jack said, making a pun on both the novitiate and the "professional" ladies who frequented the docks. She still wore crosses on her wrist and around her neck and paid lip service to her religion, but she had also got a tattoo of the Voodoo goddess of love on her breast. Jack hadn't cared about the clothing, the tattoo or the crosses; it wasn't until later that he had realized the dichotomy, and what a large change in her character they signified.

She had renewed her professions of love, but Jack saw how she behaved with some of the other men as well. It was obvious she wasn't keeping her favors for him alone. He would have been fine with that, except that she had lied and told him that she was his alone.

And it wasn't just a matter of being too free with her body. It was also a matter of her callousness toward others. Clinging to the vestiges of her religious life, she didn't like doing her own dirty work—but had no problem delegating it to others. She had become a hypocrite as well as a pirate.

Jack knew by this point that he wanted to leave, but Angelica clung. The only way he could get free of her was by promising to take her away with him that night. She accepted his offer, and he accepted her token of a strip of Belgian lace torn from her shirt-cuff. They shared one more night of passion, with wine, candlelight, and music (and laudanum in her wine) and when she fell into a drugged sleep, Jack sailed away.

A year later, she found him on Saint Dominique and tried to kill him. She had picked up some excellent fencing instruction, and she came very close to succeeding in her attempt. She did disarm him with a trick he had never seen before or since, but Jack had ever been a resourceful sort. He distracted her by pretending to see something fearsome behind her and when she turned her head, he'd leaped at her. He'd used his superior strength—which she couldn't counter when he was inside the reach of her sword—to wrest the sword from her hand and knock her unconscious while he picked up his sword and made his getaway. He hated having to strike her, but he hoped to heaven that he never saw her again.

Alas, 'never' was too much to hope for; it was actually eight years. Jack told Elizabeth about running into Barbossa in London, and about Angelica's impersonating Jack in a pub there, to either draw him in or ruin his reputation among other pirates. She'd press-ganged him onto Blackbeard's ship as a common sailor—"Me! A common sailor!" Jack was obviously insulted over that one.

Elizabeth hid her smile. "True. Whatever you are, you're definitely uncommon," she placated. "What happened next?"

Next came the unsuccessful mutiny, followed by the revelation that Blackbeard truly _was_ Angelica's father. Elizabeth looked skeptical when Jack told her about the _Black Pearl _and all the other captured ships in bottles, and he scoffed at her. "What, you don't believe me? After all we've seen?"

"Good point. Go on," Elizabeth ordered.

Jack went on, telling her the whole story of having to jump off a cliff to save Angelica from having to do it or being killed by her father, meeting Barbossa on Ponce de Leon's ship and stealing the chalices with him. He glossed over his daring escape from the Spanish, saying it would be a great story for another time.

Then he told her about everything that had happened at the Fountain of Youth, from Barbossa's appearance, to the fight, to Blackbeard and Angelica both getting poisoned. He told Elizabeth about what he had done with the mermaid's tear, tricking Blackbeard into sacrificing his life to save his daughter. Then, he and Barbossa had parted amicably, Barbossa to his new ship, the _Queen Anne's Revenge,_ and Jack to maroon Angelica on a tiny island. He didn't know how she had got off the island, but now her hatred of him was worse than ever since she now blamed him for her father's death as well as for his corruption and abandonment before.

Jack's face brightened as he told her about meeting up with Mr. Gibbs again, who had stolen the entire fleet of ships in bottles—including the _Black Pearl._ He was a bit cagey in telling her how they had got the _Pearl _out of the bottle again, merely mentioning that it involved goats, trumpets, and a crossbow.

Elizabeth decided she really didn't want to know.

"So that's it," Jack said. "That's the whole sordid story. I _told _you it doesn't show me in the best light. 'F you don't mind, I'd really prefer to keep it between us. Savvy?"

"Oh, of course, of course. But—Jack, something doesn't sound quite right here. You blame yourself for the path she took, but I don't think you're giving _her _enough credit."

"How's that, love?"

"She made her own choices and then blamed you for all of them—and you just took the blame. I hate to tell you this, Jack, but you're being... well, 'Will-like,' for lack of a better word."

Jack shook his head, looking wounded. "'Will-like,' Elizabeth? That's harsh, dearie."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Usually that would be a compliment, but in this case it's because you're taking on more culpability than you really ought. Will always did that too. Yes, you led her on and then ran out on her. But really, if having a man break her heart is the worst thing to ever happen to her, she's in pretty good shape! She could have returned to the Church, confessed and been absolved, and could still have entered the convent if she wished. Instead, she _chose_ to turn pirate and start killing people. All those people she killed, at the Fountain and at Flimwell? Gone forever. If she had succeeded in killing you? Gone forever. She'd have deprived the world forever of Captain Jack Sparrow, can you imagine? I know I did that as well, but that was only temporary."

Elizabeth smiled, and put her hand on Jack's forearm to make her point. "A broken heart can mend, Jack, but you can't come back from the dead. Oh, all right," she added upon seeing his raised eyebrow. "Perhaps _you_ can, _once, _but most people can't."

He grinned. "Well, I did have some…" he gestured toward her with his other hand, "help."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and then went on. "You seem to think she's a good woman at heart, but it doesn't sound to me as if she is. Maybe you're still biased because you met her as a novice in the church, I don't know.

"But look at her actions since then, Jack. She's the one who lured all those sailors onto her father's ship under false pretenses, when she must have known that most of them wouldn't survive the mermaids' attack. She may have saved the missionary's life, but it was for her own purposes rather than any sense of altruism. She was apparently fine with keeping him tied up to the mast for days on end. She had no problem with his being slashed open, as long as it wasn't her or her father doing it. She had no problem allowing a mermaid to be tortured to death.

"When her plan to use Barbossa's life at the Fountain didn't work out, she had no qualms at all about taking your life instead. Would you have done any of that? You, who risked his life and his freedom saving the life of some stranger in Port Royale who had become a victim of her own corset?" She chuckled ruefully and went on, "You, who sacked Nassau without firing a single shot? Would you have taken the life of an innocent person in order to become immortal?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "You know me better than that."

"Yes, I do, so I know you're not giving her enough credit for making her own decisions. Unless you're telling me you _forced _her into your bed?" She raised her eyebrows in a challenge.

Jack gave her a dirty look. "I've never forced a woman in me life!"

"No, of course not. So allow that you're only responsible for your own actions here, Jack—and granted, they weren't the noblest at the time, but you did try to make it up to her at the Fountain. You're _not_ responsible for her actions, her choices... her crimes," Elizabeth finished, her voice hard. "They're _her _crimes, not yours."

Jack stared thoughtfully at her for several minutes and covered her hand with his calloused one, stroking it with his thumb. "You still see a good man when you look at me."

She smiled back. "I do."

He shook his head and lifted her hand to his mouth, running his lips across the back of it before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Not sure whether you're blind or hallucinating, but I shall generously refrain from arguin' the point with you." He rose. "You'd better get to bed, love. Tomorrow you start practicing swordplay again, and if your aunt and my father are conspiring again, you'll want to be rested to face whatever they bring us next."

Elizabeth laughed and handed Jack his hat. "You're probably right." She sobered for a moment, and said "Thank you for trusting me with the truth about Angelica, Jack. It helps a little, to know why she went after me and Jacob in Flimwell."

She dropped her gaze and flushed a little. "Plus, I hadn't known you were even capable of falling in love. It's nice to know you have a real heart buried somewhere under all that bluster."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering for a moment longer than a friendly kiss would call for.

Startled, Jack stared at her, making a visible effort to regain his composure. He injected a light, bantering note into his voice as he asked, "You mean you doubted it? Don't you know it's been yours ever since you fed me to the kraken?"

Elizabeth took it as a joke. "You mean since I kissed you or since I killed you?"

"Both, o' course. You want to be careful with the kisses, love," he teased. "I seem to have a weakness for women who murder me."

"I shall try to refrain next time," Elizabeth shot back, "from the murdering, anyway." She kissed him on the cheek again, with a defiant air. "So there!"

Jack laughed and pulled her into his arms, startling a squeak out of her. He kissed her neck several times, ending with a sharp nip to her ear before he released her. "There, now, don't be naughty or you'll end up more than you can handle, darling!"

Elizabeth shook her head. "'More than I can handle,' hmm? And here I thought you knew better than to underestimate me." She tsked at him a few times and shoved him toward the door.

Jack went out the door, still laughing. He never saw Elizabeth sink down on the divan, breathless, with one hand on her heart and the other on her neck where he had kissed her.

Aunt Agatha came in and saw her, and asked with a knowing look, "Is Captain Sparrow still here?"

Elizabeth answered, "No, he's gone," and then started, and gave her aunt a narrow-eyed look as she asked, "How did you know he'd been here?"

If Jack had been there, he would have laughed at Agatha's smile and the way she patted Elizabeth's hand as she told her, "I recognize the after-effects of one of his visits."

* * *

*_Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*of*the*Caribbean*Pirates*_

* * *

_Note: I apologize to any Angelica-fans whom I may have offended with this chapter; however, this is honestly how I see her. I must confess that I found absolutely nothing likeable or admirable about her as she was portrayed in Pirates 4, and I get irritated when people say that she's a female version of Jack, his perfect match, and other variations on that theme. I have to wonder whether they saw the same movie I did! She is nothing of the kind; on her best day she may aspire to be half as decent and clever as Jack, but she could never measure up in either morals or intelligence._

_Example: during the tango scene in OST, Angelica tells Jack "You can be so charming when you want something; the trick is figuring out what." Honestly, she's a bit dim, as it was blatantly obvious why he was trying to seduce her—to get her to tell him about the ritual of the mermaid's tear. Which she did. Contrast that with "At World's End," the scene where Elizabeth, Jack, and Barbossa go to that little spit of land to parley with Beckett, Will, and Davy Jones. Elizabeth, who knew nothing about Jack's desire to stab the heart and only a little about Will's efforts to free his father, managed to figure out not only what was going on between Will and Jack, but also arrange it so that it could happen without Becket or Davy Jones suspecting a thing. She and Jack are always, always ten steps ahead of everyone else; Angelica usually about three steps behind. __ In fact, I did not start 'shipping Jack and Elizabeth at all until after I had seen "On Stranger Tides" and hated Angelica so much that I started missing Elizabeth and wishing Keira Knightley had been able to be in that movie instead of Penelope Cruz._

_Lastly, I did not think that Depp and Penelope Cruz had very much romantic/sexual chemistry on-screen at all. I felt the same about them in "Blow." They seemed like two strangers reciting lines to each other by rote. I thought Depp had more chemistry with Dame Judy Dench than he did with his so-called "love interest," and she's 78 years old and only had 10 seconds of screen time! Contrast the flat chemistry he had with Cruz with the sizzle that scorched the screen every time Knightley was on it with him, and in my mind there's no contest._

_But again, it's my opinion, and I have no objection to anyone's disagreeing with it. Thank you for reading and reviewing!  
_


	31. Sparring with Sparrow

Over the next several weeks Elizabeth worked at getting back into fighting trim, much to the dismay of her aunt. Still recovering from her illness, Elizabeth nonetheless put as much energy as she could spare into her swordplay. She started out with Gibbs first, who went easy on her. Then she took on Pintel-and-Ragetti both at once, disarmed Pintel immediately, and then their sparring devolved into a sword-tossing game like they'd had on Isla Cruces. Agatha watched that match, with her hand over her heart, and her mouth open in alarm as Elizabeth threw and caught swords, sparred, and laughed with the two disreputable pirates. After that, Agatha refused to watch any more sparring matches.

That was probably wise, as Teague offered to spar with Elizabeth after that The old captain might have been faster in his youth than he was now, but he was stronger than any other foe she'd ever faced. His blows were so powerful that even when she parried, they reverberated all the way up to her shoulder. She ended that session with her entire frame aching and throbbing from the strength in his attacks. Taking on Pintel and Ragetti together again the next day was like a holiday compared with fighting Teague by himself.

Jack came to watch, applauding when Elizabeth learned and used a new dirty trick. "Yes! Now that's how pirates fight!" he crowed when she took a fall, grabbed a fistful of sand, and threw it into Ragetti's remaining eye before she disarmed him. He approached, clapping, and told Ragetti to go _see to his eye_, if he would pardon the expression, and then asked Elizabeth, "All right, darling. You ready to take me on now?"

"Always!" she told him, showing her teeth.

He flashed a golden grin. "I'll keep that in mind for after we're finished sparring!" He drew his sword and then looked past her at something. His jaw dropped and he stepped back in surprise.

Elizabeth didn't move or look, but met his attack strongly when it came with no warning.

"Good girl," he said softly, and the match was on. She hadn't let him distract her the way he had done to Angelica on St. Dominique. He started at one-half power and speed, but sped up when he saw she could take it. He called encouragement and suggestions to her as they sparred. "Nice block. Higher next time. Good. Higher. Barely felt that, dearie. More power. Harder. Higher. Good."

After a respectable fight he drew first blood, a shallow cut on her shoulder, and that ended the match. She saluted him with her sword and a tired smile, and sheathed her sword. "Good match, Jack."

"Likewise, love. Keep that arm up higher next time, eh? You almost didn't block that one. Don't fancy running you through."

"I'll try."

"You'll do. Tomorrow I have to show you one of Angelica's tricks—you're finished for today."

Elizabeth, still panting hard, was forced to agree. "I am. My limbs feel like they're made of lead. Why did I have to fall ill just as she was coming after us?"

"If you hadn't, you'd have been there when she attacked Flimwell," Jack reminded her. "Don't worry about it. You'll do fine."

They went back to Teague's house, where Agatha gasped at the sight of Elizabeth's bloody shoulder, and was even more scandalized when she let Jack clean and bandage it for her.

Elizabeth laughed. "I hate to tell you this, Aunt Agatha, but he's seen more of me than this," she said, indicating her shoulder. She'd unbuttoned the shirt a little, to let it slide off her shoulder, and was holding it closed in front. "He did look after a nursing mother and child for over a week almost by himself, don't forget."

"Still, a lady doesn't speak of such things!" Agatha protested, blushing furiously at Elizabeth's talking about this right in front of Jack who was busily cleaning her shoulder cut.

"Aye, but a pirate accepts them as fact," Jack put in. "You'll forgive me for saying so, Auntie, but there is a big difference between eyeing up a pretty girl and patching up a comrade-in-arms."

"Thank you, Jack!" Elizabeth told him, obviously pleased with being called a comrade-in-arms.

"Any time, darling. Mind you," he said with a smirk, "I am an efficient sort of man who can do both at once."

"Ohhh, you—!" Elizabeth glared at him, and his smirk widened into a grin as he finished bandaging her up and pulling her shirt back up over it.

"There, now, you'll do. Remember to keep your arm up higher next time, and don't let me in, aye?"

"Aye. Thanks."

"Tomorrow, then? I won't go easy on you next time."

"_That _was going _easy_?" Elizabeth groaned. "In that case, I'd better get to bed."

She did so, and except for waking up to feed Jacob and to eat some supper herself, she slept straight through to the next morning.

Jack showed up a couple of hours after she woke, and sparred with her again. He showed her how to perform and counter Angelica's signature move, the one that had made him recognize her when she'd been impersonating him. "Just in case." They practiced it over and over, until it was on its way to becoming second nature to her.

"Wouldn't Will complain if he could see you now," Jack remarked idly during one of their breaks. "He's always such a one for fair play, he'd be properly horrified by your swordplay now."

Elizabeth said, "He's the one who taught me."

"How to duel, aye, but now you're learning how to _fight._ 'S a different thing. Winning a match doesn't really compare to surviving a fight, as far as motivations go."

"True. Of the two, I'd rather survive than play fair," she said thoughtfully.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," Jack addressed their nonexistent audience, "is why Elizabeth Swann will always be a better pirate than that whelp she married."

He remembered that when she'd written him that apologetic note, she had crossed out the Turner and signed her name Elizabeth Swann. Captain Teague had taken to calling her "Captain Swann" or sometimes "Miss Swann" when her aunt was around (and when she wasn't, he was much less formal and just called her "Miss Liz"). Jack took a chance and called her "Swann" himself.

She didn't protest, as she would have done just a few weeks ago. She smiled a little sadly and nodded. "Or didn't marry, as it happens."

"As far as you are concerned, you _were _married."

She nodded. "But if I _was_ married, then I'm still a widow now. So why am I Elizabeth Swann again? Shouldn't I still be Mrs Turner?"

"What, and you think 'Sparrow' is my surname by birth? We choose what we want to be called. That's one of the benefits of being a pirate."

"And you think I should choose Swann?"

"I think you _have_ chosen Swann, darling."

Elizabeth was quiet for a long time, and then said quietly, "I think you may be right."

Jack smiled broadly. "'S just as well. You and me, love, we're birds of a feather." He threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

Elizabeth groaned at his pun on their names. "That's atrocious, Jack!" She put her arm around his waist. "So what _is_ your surname by birth?"

Jack gave her a flirtatious, eyebrow-raised look. "Not telling."

"Oh, really?" she asked archly. "I bet I can find out."

"What do you bet?"

"What do you want?"

He reached up and stroked across her lips with a forefinger. "A kiss."

"What?"

"A kiss, Lizzie—a real kiss with no chains and no sea monsters. And no husbands."

"But Jack—!"

"Uh-uh. We're already friends, and you're not married anymore, so you should have no moral objections to it."

He leaned in closer. "I want to know what it tastes like," he reminded her in a low voice.

"Fine," she said, raising her chin stubbornly.

"Against…?" he asked.

She thought a moment. "One piece of your jewelry."

"Me jewelry?" He blinked in surprise.

"A ring, or a bead from your hair—anything I choose."

Jack took a moment to look at his rings, to run his fingers through his hair, and finger the strands of beads hanging from it before taking a deep breath and nodding.

"We have an accord, then?" Elizabeth used his favorite wheeling-and-dealing phrase.

"We do. What we need now is a time limit." Jack grinned. "Can't have you still trying to find out my name when we're both old and grey. And I'm going to want my kiss long before then, as well!"

"I'm not waiting that long for my jewelry, either! How about we say… until Barbossa gets here? Since you probably sing it to yourself while you dance around a bonfire, I don't imagine it will take that long to find out your name anyway. And then when he gets here, he'll say 'Jaaaaack, where's that pretty strand of beads you used to wear?' and you'll have to tell him you lost it to me." She wagged her head in a childish mocking gesture.

Jack broke into a deep chuckle. "Darling, you're the only person I've ever sung to while I danced around a bonfire, and me name's not Rumpelstiltskin, I promise.

"Anyway, it's more likely Barbossa'll say, 'Jaaaaack, who's the pretty lady kissin' you? Why, it looks almost like our noble king. 'Bout time she got around to it!' and then you'll have to tell him you lost it to—well, to Will, but that you saved some for old Jack as well."

Elizabeth gasped, scandalized. "Jack!" she cried in outrage, and shoved him, hard.

He stumbled away, laughing. "Oh, God, if you could see your face!" he wheezed. "Y'look like you're about to murder me all over again!"

"'S not far from the truth," she muttered, glaring at him. In another moment her lips twitched, and a moment later she had started to laugh ruefully. She followed him and shoved him again, whacking him several times about the arms and shoulders. "You're such a beast! Why do you say things like that to me? It's so improper!" she raised her voice, still laughing.

He raised his hands to half-heartedly fend off her blows, still chuckling. "'M sorry, love. It must be that look of shocked indignation on your face…! I simply can't resist. You just get prettier the angrier you get!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "And you think that feeding me a line like that makes it all right to get me riled up just for your amusement?"

Jack shook his head. "It's not a line, darling. God's honest truth, I swear."

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a steely look. He replied with an innocent one, accompanied by a charming, golden-toothed smile.

Suddenly she smiled back, very sweetly. His smile faded in an instant. He knew that look.

"It's amazing how much you sounded like Barbossa just then," she told him. "Almost uncanny. Really. I never realized how like him you are. You could be twins!"

He glared at her. "Now, that was cruel an' uncalled-for, Miss Swann!"

Her smile broadened into a grin. "Yes, but you're not laughing anymore, are you?"

His lips twitched. "We'll see who's laughin' when it comes time to collect my winnin's, love."


	32. Barbossa vs Her Nibs

Elizabeth went to Teague first, trying to find out Jack's birth name. He had apparently been briefed by his son already, and he just smiled at her and kept his mouth shut. Next, she tried sneaking onto the Black Pearl while Jack was ashore, thinking that perhaps she could find some documents in his cabin that held the information.

Gibbs stopped her as soon as she came on board, told her Jack wasn't there, and sent her back ashore again, forthwith.

Next she begged Aunt Agatha to find out from Jack for her, but her aunt merely laughed. She mentioned that Teague had told her all about the terms of the bet, as he'd had it from Jack that same day, and that Elizabeth had made the bet and had better uphold the terms of it.

"You made your bed, 'Liza. Now you'll have to lie in it!" Agatha told her with no small amount of glee.

Next, Elizabeth pressed Maggie for the information, but the maid had only met Captain Sparrow after he was an adult and didn't know. Nor could she be bribed to rifle through Teague's papers to find out, either. "No, ma'am, I shan't do that for ye. I've always been loyal to the old gentleman captain, so I have!"

Jack added to the mystery by telling her that there was only one circumstance under which he would tell her his birth name—but then he refused to tell her what that circumstance was. He, Agatha, and Teague all found the whole thing terribly amusing, and Elizabeth got fed up after a few days and decided to focus on the upcoming Angelica problem for a while until she thought of a foolproof plan to discover the name.

That was when Teague drifted into Pirate Hall where they were planning out the battle. He could move as silently as a ghost when he wanted to, and Elizabeth and Jack both jumped, startled, when he spoke. "Barbossa's here."

Sure enough, they heard the step-thud, step-thud of his stride in the corridor. Jack turned his head slowly to meet Elizabeth's flushed gaze.

"What's me name, darling?" he asked in an undertone.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she whispered back.

He shook his head no and winked at her. "I'll collect me winnin's later."

Elizabeth groaned. "I didn't know he'd be here so soon!"

Jack shrugged; it didn't really matter how long Barbossa took to arrive, Elizabeth still wouldn't discover his birth name on her own. He turned back toward the newcomer as he stumped through the door on his wooden leg.

"Greetings, Mrs Turner," Barbossa said. "Jack."

Elizabeth nodded to him.

"Hello, Hector," Jack greeted. "How are you finding your _Revenge_?"

"Enjoyin' it hugely, thank ye fer askin'," Barbossa said contentedly as he sat down, pulling another chair over to put his feet up. "Just the one last loose end to tie up and then it'll be complete."

"Loose end?" Jack asked.

"Blackbeard's bitch pup, o' course. The one who sent him against me ship in the first place because she thought you was captaining the _Pearl_. Isn't that why ye sent for me?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. Barbossa's stealing and losing the _Pearl_ was still a sore subject. "Aye," he said grimly. "It's the three of us she's after, and she's coming _here _to get us."

"No more need be said, then, is there?" Barbossa said, referring to Angelica's betraying the pirate haven. "But I do have to wonder what she has against our gracious, gentle, sweet-natured King." The sarcasm fairly dripped from his drawling voice when he spoke the last few words.

Jack choked on a laugh at Barbossa's description of Elizabeth, and she smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow! You just proved his point, you harpy!" he told her.

"Shut it!"

Jack answered Barbossa. "Angelica Teach believes the relationship between Captain Swann and myself to be something other than what it is."

"And what is it?" Barbossa asked, amused. "She hits you and you call her names. Might as well be married, if you ask me."

Teague chuckled aloud. The others, who had all forgotten he was there, stared in shock. "What?" he asked innocently. "He has a point."

Elizabeth cleared her throat pointedly and spoke to Barbossa. "If we may get back on topic? Angelica thinks that Jack left her for me, and that he's the father of my son. She tried to kill us by attacking the village where we lived—"

"—You and Jack?" Barbossa asked ingenuously.

"Me and Jacob. My son. _Will's_ son!" Elizabeth clarified in frustration. "Jack and I have never even been together, but Angelica thinks we have. She attacked my village and killed most of the villagers, trying to get to us! So we sent out word that we came here to be safe from her."

"Ah," Barbossa sneered. "Ye ran."

"We _retreated_ to set up an ambush," Elizabeth clarified. "Which you can be part of willingly, or unwillingly. Your choice." She smiled sweetly at him.

Watching, Teague shook his head. His son had elected this king, and now after coming to know her, he didn't think Jack could have made a better choice. Sweet, but ruthless.

Barbossa laughed. "And just how do ye reckon to obtain my cooperation if I'm unwillin', Mrs Turner?"

She bared her teeth in an unfriendly smile. "Any number of ways, Captain Barbossa, many of them unpleasant—if you are, indeed unwilling. _Are_ you?"

He glared at her. She stared him down, raising her eyebrows in challenge. There was a minute of utter silence while the tension mounted, and then Barbossa relented.

"Aye, I guess I can lend a hand, this bein' Shipwreck Cove an' all."

"I'm declaring a one-time bureaucratic amnesty for the duration of hostilities," Teague put in quietly, "If that helps."

Barbossa relaxed. "Aye, that do lift the burden somewhat," he admitted. He fixed Jack with a challenging look. "As for the battle itself, ye knew I have Blackbeard's sword now?"

"Aye," Jack replied. "That would make the battle go a bit easier."

"We oughtn't use it, though," Elizabeth mused. "Or perhaps only as a last resort."

"Why's that, love? If we have an advantage, we ought to use it," Jack said.

Teague just watched and listened.

"It's just—I have a bad feeling about involving magical things," Elizabeth explained. "Any time some otherworldly element gets introduced, things seldom go the way you expect and _never_ the way you hope. I just don't think we ought to depend on it."

Barbossa unexpectedly agreed. Jack cocked his head in surprise.

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Were ye or were ye not here in this room when I gave me rousin' speech to the Brethren Court about dependin' on the strength o' one's back and the sweat o' one's brow instead of dependin' on bargains struck with eldritch creatures?"

"Oh," Jack said. "That speech."

"I'd call it more rabble-rousing than simply rousing," Elizabeth said, "But yes, I guess that's the most of my objection."

"Good girl," Teague told her quietly.

"Also, if Angelica doesn't realize or remember that you have the sword, then if we do need you to use it, we'll have the element of surprise," Elizabeth went on.

They agreed not to use the magic sword unless the tide of battle turned against them, and eventually the discussion shifted to less planning and more sitting around reminiscing-especially after Teague opened up a bottle of rum. The meeting eventually broke up, with Teague accompanying Elizabeth back to his house, and Jack and Barbossa retiring to their respective ships.


	33. A Serendipitous Visitor

_Note: I received a question via PM about the name/bonfire reference in the last chapter. The original fairy tale of Rumpelstiltskin told of the queen discovering his name because when she went on a nighttime walk through the woods she saw the little man leaping and dancing around a bonfire and singing a ditty that said, "Today I bake, tomorrow I brew, then the Queen's child I shall stew. For nobody knows my little game, for Rumpelstiltskin is my name." So that's what Elizabeth was referring to, which is ironic because she and Jack **have** actually danced and sung around a bonfire together. _

* * *

It was quite late that same night when Jack returned and rang Teague's doorbell. Maggie opened the door and showed him into the sitting room, where Agatha was reading.

"Evening, Auntie." Jack announced. "Where is Elizabeth? I've a surprise for her."

"Upstairs with Jacob," Agatha answered. "What's the surprise?"

"Tai Huang is here. We'd thought he was in Singapore."

"Who is Tai Huang?"

"Her first mate on the _Empress_. We had to summon Barbossa from where he's been workin' around Vera Cruz, but the _Empress _just coincidentally happened to be in the area—well, Europe, which is nearly our neighbor compared with Singapore—and dropped in for a visit just in time. If Elizabeth is going to do any fighting, she'll want her own ship under her."

"And is Elizabeth going to do any fighting?" Agatha asked sternly.

He shrugged. "I assume so. What else have we been planning all this time?"

Elizabeth heard her name as she came down the stairs. Agatha and Jack were arguing, and she stopped to listen for a moment.

"Elizabeth is a young single mother," Agatha pointed out. "She's had her adventures, and I daresay she enjoyed them, but I really don't see why you would want her to be involved in warfare _now_, when she should be settled somewhere to bring up her child. You risk depriving Jacob of his mother along with his father! If you care about Elizabeth as you seem to, why would you want her to be in danger?"

Jack's voice lowered, as if he were scowling. "Auntie, I dislike arguin' with ye, but I must. For one thing, I'm trying to _prevent _the boy from losing his mother, which he most assuredly will if Angelica gets hold of her.

"For another thing, danger takes one look at Elizabeth Swann and runs screaming—just as any sensible man would do. I don't think you have any idea what that woman is capable of. Don't sell her short, dearie—she's a hurricane in battle."

Listening, Elizabeth smiled. Jack thought her a hurricane? She kept listening as he went on.

"And as far as '_seeming_' to care about her? Madam, I would give my life for that woman. In fact, come to think of it, _**I already have**__."_

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. She was so astonished that she didn't pay attention to what came next.

Agatha asked, "And what if she doesn't survive? Who would raise her son?"

"If there aren't any Swanns left who would take him, _I_ have family who would."

"You wouldn't raise him yourself?"

Jack scoffed. "Love to, but if Elizabeth were killed, that would mean I'd already be dead. My father would probably send him to my brother in England."

"Who is your brother? Another pirate, I suppose."

"You suppose wrong. As long as you've already promised not to reveal any of us to the law, I may as well tell you. My brother is Adam Teague, Lord Dalrymple."

"The new Lord Dalrymple?" Agatha asked, her voice sounding shocked.

"The very same. His mother was Rebekah Adams, a respectable Englishwoman, and his father is your taciturn host."

"Captain Teague is Lord Dalrymple's father?"

"Aye. I think even Elizabeth wouldn't object to her son being raised by an English Lord, if the worst happened. Would you, Elizabeth?" He raised his voice at this last part, and Elizabeth flushed a little.

She came into the room, still distracted by what he'd said a minute ago. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping. I was waiting for a good moment to come in. What's happened, Jack?"

"Brought you a surprise.

"A good one, I hope."

He nodded. "I do believe it is." He went back out to the door and opened it. "Well, come in, then!" he said to the man who had been waiting on the step.

In walked Tai Huang, first mate of the _Empress_: the ship that Pirate Lord Sao Feng had bequeathed to Elizabeth, along with the title of Pirate Lord of the South China Sea, when he died.

"Tai Huang!" Elizabeth exclaimed, running to greet him. She stopped a few feet away and they bowed to each other. "I'm very glad to see you," she told him. "Did you have business here?"

"We brought jade to sell in Europe," he said. "Since Europe is closer to pirate haven than Singapore, we came to restock and visit our honored lord and king."

"I'm glad you did. I've missed you. How are the others? Tian Peng? Sao Ri?"

"All are well. They will be glad to see Captain Swann again. We brought a gift for Pirate King." Huang reached into his pocket and brought out a small box, which he presented to Elizabeth with both hands and another short bow.

She accepted it and opened it. She carefully put away the wrappings in her waistcoat pocket, and then opened the box. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "This is beautiful, Huang!" She took out the two bracelets and slipped them on, and fastened the necklace around her neck. "These are lovely," she said again. "Will you tell me what the stone means?"

"It is jade, the stone of wisdom and prosperity. Jade opens the door of the body to receive health, the door of the mind to receive wisdom, the door of the home to receive prosperity, and the door of the heart to receive love."

"What a lovely gift!" Agatha complimented.

"And it's all things you can really use," Jack remarked under his breath.

"Oh! Yes, Aunt, you must meet my first mate, Tai Huang." Elizabeth performed all the necessary introductions, including to Jacob, after he started crying from upstairs and Agatha went up to get him. Tai Huang's weathered face broke into a big smile when he saw the little bright-eyed baby calm down and give him a two-toothed grin.

"I greet the Pirate Prince with a gift also!" he said, with a small bow toward Jacob. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large ring made of smooth coral, about the size of a bracelet but much thicker, with only a small hole in the center. He handed it to the baby.

Jacob reached out and grabbed it. "Hak!" he exclaimed, as he put one edge of it into his mouth. Elizabeth tried to stop him, but Tai Huang only smiled.

"That is its purpose, Captain. For baby to chew. You keep it in water and it will be cool in his mouth until his teeth come through."

"Oh! Thank you, Huang!" Elizabeth bowed again, just a dip of her head, as she told him, "These are extremely valuable and thoughtful gifts. We will treasure them."

"Know what else is valuable and worthy of treasuring, Elizabeth?" Jack reminded. "Your ship."

"Oh, that's right!"

Agatha took the baby out while Jack and Elizabeth outlined the situation for Tai Huang. Elizabeth asked for his help in the upcoming battle.

"Yes, I help you. You come back and command the _Empress _again for the battle. A woman who tries to kill baby have no honor. _Empress _stands ready to defend the King."

Elizabeth and Jack both bowed; Huang returned the bow and said good night.

"Hang on, Huang," Jack said. "I'll walk with you." He turned to Elizabeth. "Like the surprise, love?"

"Very much. This is getting better and better. I hadn't realized how much I missed it all. Why I thought I'd ever be happy for a decade on that hilltop over Flimwell is beyond me."

"You're welcome," Jack told her, smugly buffing his fingernails.

"Yes, yes, you're my savior, Jack. Whatever would I do without you. So let's have it."

"What?"

"Aren't you going to claim your winnings?"

He lowered his eyelids and shook his head, looking sly. "Think I'll wait."

"Until...?"

"Until you ask me to collect."

"You'll be waiting a long time!"

He swept his gaze back up her body to meet her eyes again. "Want to bet?" he said. "Double or nothing."

"Fine."

They shook hands on the deal, and Elizabeth waved a cheery goodnight as she headed back upstairs.


	34. Plans and Pretence

The next day Tai Huang joined them in Pirate Hall for the planning session, and Elizabeth spoke the thought that had been bothering her all day. "If we have the _Empress_, the _Revenge_, and the _Enforcer_, then I don't think we ought to use the _Black Pearl _in the fight," she said.

"And what's wrong with me lovely _Pearl_?" demanded Jack.

"Nothing at all, only she is built more for speed than for battle. Also, I thought you would prefer her not to be full of holes afterwards."

Jack had to admit that was true. "I'm listening," he said warily.

"Angelica knows the _Pearl _is yours, especially now that Barbossa has her father's ship. She's trying to get to you. I think we should use the _Pearl _as bait, to draw her in, and then let the other ships do the fighting."

Jack thought about this for a moment. "So you want me to just sit there on my ship and let everyone else do the fighting for me?" He thought a moment longer and started to smile. "I like it."

"Well, wherever you are, that's where she'll attack the hardest," Elizabeth said. "Am I right?"

Jack had to admit that was true. He nodded grimly. "She did show a certain barbarous enthusiasm for enacting my immediate demise when last we met."

"So I suggest that you leave Gibbs and one or two others on the Pearl, and join me and Tai Huang on the _Empress_."

"Then she'll destroy the _Empress_," Jack objected. "If she sees both of us together on it, she'll obliterate it to get to us, and your _Empress_ is still just a junk. No, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll join Barbossa on the _Revenge_. Both her father's murderers on the same ship—she may lose her mind and do something stupid. And the _Revenge _can hold up to her stupidity a lot better than your pretty little_ Empress_."

"Fine, then. I'm sure Barbossa will love it," Elizabeth grinned.

"What will Barbossa love?" asked Barbossa himself, as he approached the table and sat down. He nodded briefly to Tai Huang, who was watching and keeping quiet.

"Having Jack aboard during the battle," Elizabeth told him.

Barbossa made a moue of distaste, but Elizabeth went on. "Being able to order _him _around on _your _ship, for a change."

"Oi!" Jack protested.

Barbossa raised his eyebrows and smiled a little. "When you put it that way, it sounds downright appealin'. What about it, Jack?" he asked, drawing out the other man's name as usual. "Going to join me crew?"

Jack gritted his teeth. "So it would seem, Hector."

Barbossa grinned. "I'm sure I could find an openin' for a powder monkey."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Hector, you're going to need to assign me a powder monkey all of my own. Unless you have anyone on your ship who's a better musketman than me?"

"No, I s'pose not," Barbossa told him regretfully. "But if you're coming with me, who's captaining the _Pearl_?"

"The _Pearl _won't be fighting," Jack told him.

"No," Elizabeth explained. "She'll be bait."

"Ah. Good plan," Barbossa agreed, evidently following their line of thought without needing to ask. "And where will you be, Mrs Turner, if I might ask?"

"I'll be aboard my _Empress_, with Tai Huang and the rest of my crew," she said.

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten about your dainty little ship," Barbossa taunted.

Elizabeth glared at him. "I doubt you'd have called it that with Sao Feng as captain!"

"Course not, ma'am. He'd have his sword in me ribs before I'd finished speakin'. I'd 've still thought it, though." Barbossa smiled, evidently imagining the situation. "I'd have derived a great deal of inner satisfaction from thinkin' it while lookin' at his ugly face, whereas your face, Mrs Turner, bein' pleasurable to look upon at the best of times—"

"—Only gets more so when you're angry," Jack finished. He and Barbossa shared a wicked grin as Elizabeth's color rose.

"What?" she cried, outraged.

"See?" Jack asked Barbossa.

"And not a sword in sight," Barbossa agreed. "Infinitely preferable to Sao Feng."

Tau Huang nodded and spoke up for the first time. "Sao Feng was good sailor but very bad man. _Empress _crew prefer Captain Swann as long as we can pretend she is a man."

Barbossa and Jack both broke up laughing.

"Mind you," Tai Huang clarified with a straight face, "It takes some imagination."

The other two captains laughed harder. "I suppose it must, at that," Barbossa answered.

"Oh, no question," Jack remarked, eying Elizabeth up and down. "A _lot_ of imagination, I would think, to pretend Captain Swann is a man!"

Barbossa's gaze swept up and down her figure as well, and he snickered. Tai Huang ducked his head to hide his smile. Face blazing, Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"You do what you have to do, I guess," she replied. "My crew's having to pretend I'm a man is certainly no worse than my having to dress as one in the first place!"

"But probably a lot harder, darling," Jack observed. "All you have to do is wear trousers. Your entire crew is tasked with the job of pretending not to know what's in 'em!"

Strangely enough, the meeting, along with Elizabeth's patience, ended shortly thereafter.


	35. Delivery from the Dead

That afternoon when Jack returned to the Black Pearl, Will was waiting for him in his cabin. "Hello, Jack," he said.

"Ahhhh!" Jack yelped again. Heart pounding, he glared at Will. "Will you _stop_ doing that?"

Will laughed. "Jack, I don't get very many pleasures out of captaining the ship of the dead. Seeing you shriek in fright like a little girl? That's pretty high up on my list these days."

Jack took a deep breath, calming down his heartbeat and breathing. He cast a sidelong look at Will. "I'd say you need to get yourself a girl, but considering how that turned out last time, maybe you should just take up knitting."

As Jack intended, the reminder of Will's newly single status wiped the grin off the other captain's face. "I have a message and some cargo for you," Will said stiffly.

"Cargo? Oh, did you bring a treasure after all?" Jack asked lightly. He was surprised when Will flushed a little and nodded.

"I did. It's in the hold already, and I need you to give me your solemn word of honor—such as it is—that you'll see that Elizabeth gets all of it."

"And what do I get out of the deal, pray tell? It's a bit rough, having to carry around a treasure on me own ship and not be able to keep any of it, nor my men either."

Will nodded. "Especially for someone like you, eh?"

"I'm not the only one around here obsessed with treasure, don't forget," Jack reminded him. The last time he'd said that to Will, the "treasure" he referred to was Elizabeth, and he could tell by the tightening of Will's lips that Will remembered and made the connection.

"Well, that brings me to the message," Will said. "I met with Calypso and asked her for a favor. She granted it. She has renounced her claim on _La Isla Muerta_. You're welcome to go and get that treasure any time you want. That'll be your payment for delivering _this _treasure to Elizabeth and her aunt, untouched."

Jack was stunned. "You serious, mate?"

Will nodded.

"Now listen. I know that woman. She never does anything without payment. What on earth did you have to offer her, to get _Isla Muerta_ back from her?"

Will looked away as his color rose. "I'd rather not say."

Jack started to smile. "Ah. Sits the wind in that quarter?"

Will said nothing, and didn't look at him.

Jack's smile broadened into a grin. "You and Calypso, eh? And here I always thought the expression 'to plough the sea' was only figurative."

Will's face went bright red, and suddenly Calypso's voice came from the far corner of the cabin. "Jack Sparrow, you makin' trouble fe my William?"

Jack whirled to face her. "No, no, not at all, love. Just wondering what sort of payment you asked him in return for those two treasures, that's all. We all know you don't work without payment."

"Dat be true," she told him with a smile. "But what William an' me work out between us stays between us. Unless you really want ta know?" She asked innocently. "An' are willin' ta pay de price for de knowin'?"

Jack looked closer at her face, and then at Will's. She looked fiercely mischievous, while Will looked deeply embarrassed. "Uh, no, no, I guess not. Ignorance is bliss, after all," he hastened to say.

"So you don' make trouble fe me an' my William, an' we don' make trouble fe you an' your Elizabet'. Eh?" Calypso said slyly.

"'Me and my Elizabeth,' eh?" Jack said skeptically. "Who have you been talking to?"

She gave him a dark smile. "You a mon of da sea, Jack. All your business take place on de sea. I am de sea. I see it all, I know it all. You glad dat Elizabet' an' Will bot' widowed now. Am I right?"

"Ah, well," Jack began, flustered. Will's dark eyes pinned him with a stern glance. "To be honest, if Elizabeth is free and looking for a replacement, I don't care so much about the marital status of Mr Turner, here. Not my type, you understand," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, he's free to find someone new as well. Although it seems as if he already has," he taunted.

Will buried his face in his hands and groaned. Calypso smiled and caressed the line of his jaw, which he clenched. Then Will looked up. "So you're after my wife now, is that it, Jack?"

Jack raised his hands in defense. "Whoa, whoa, William. I merely expressed an interest in whether or not she was going to be seeking a replacement for you—I never said anything about filling that role myself. Also, I must remind you, she's _not_ your wife. Not to put too fine a point on it, but she never really was in the first place. She does need someone, though. When her aunt goes back to Port Royale, she's going to be all alone again if she doesn't remarry."

"Remarry? Yes, she could remarry," Calypso told him with glee. "If she could find a man who can be what she needs!"

"Jack?" Will said slowly. "You said she needed her husband with her. I'm not free to be her husband, and as it turns out, I'm _not_ her husband. But what about you? Why _not _fill that role yourself?"

Jack scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. She'd never have me. She's always known exactly what she wanted, and she's only ever wanted you."

"Dat not true," Calypso said. "You wrong about dat girl, Jack. She ver' conflicted 'bout de men she love."

"Man, don't you mean?" Jack asked. "As in, singular? As in, _him_?" he pointed to Will.

Calypso shook her head. "Dat girl not know what she want. Did you never see your compass spinnin' in her hand? Mos' of de time it point at you."

"Whaaat?" Jack drew out the word, skeptical. "Goddess or not, love, I think you're a bit touched." Jack tried not to look as dumfounded as he felt.

"It my compass. I know where it point."

"I did see her kissing you just before the Pearl went down," Will added pensively.

"She was only distracting me so's she could shackle me to it," Jack protested. "Chaining me up for kraken-chow."

"She kissin' you goodbye," Calypso pointed out. "Knew dat be her last chance."

"I saw the way she kissed you, Jack," Will said. "That was no mere distraction."

"If she was all that enamored of _me_, why did she choose _you_?" Jack demanded, starting to get irritated.

"You offered her a choice?"

"Aye, I did. Proposed to her right here on the deck of me ship after I sent you over to the _Dutchman_. She turned me down flat. Didn't even have to think it over. Just shoved her nose in the air and told me 'no, thank you!'"

"Any chance she might have thought you were only joking or flirting?" Will asked calmly.

Jack opened his mouth to reply with an angry _no,_ but then he remembered the lighthearted, sarcastic banter the two of them had indulged in for much of that entire voyage. It was one of the best times he'd ever had with her, just talking, teasing, and matching wits. She might very well have thought he was joking, or she might have known that he couldn't officiate at his own wedding and assumed that the rest of the question was just as bogus as the "wedding" would have been.

"Jack," Will began, leaning closer and looking at him intently. "You said Elizabeth needs her husband. Jack, could you be what she needs?"

"Could I be _you_, you mean? I doubt it, and why would I want to?"

"She doesn't need _me_, Jack. She's been getting along fine without me for 18 months, partially because she has _you_. But you say that you're not enough for her, the way things are. You say she needs a husband. Could you be that?"

"Could I marry her, d'ye mean?"

Will nodded, one tiny jerk of movement.

"She'd never marry me."

"Not what I'm asking. Would _you _marry _her_?"

"Going to kill me if I say yes? Or if I say no?"

"Neither. Would you marry her, if she agreed? Would you take care of her? Raise my son, be stepfather to him? Give her more children if she wants them? Provide for her? Would you?"

Will's rapid-fire questions attacked Jack's usual composure like cannon fire.

"In a heartbeat," he replied, without even meaning to. He groaned and covered his face with his hands, his voice coming up muffled from between his fingers. "Me dad always told me I had bleeding awful taste in women, and he's been right, up till now." He looked up sharply. "I've never made a move on her since she married ye, though, Will. Give ye my word. Been a friend only."

"So you said, and I appreciate that."

"And why are you trying to pair me up with your widow, anyway?"

"Just thinking about what you said last time," Will replied. "About her needing a husband. You obviously care for her already."

Jack cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "Time enough for that after we deal with Angelica. Can't afford to be distracted now."

"You do love her, though. Don't you?"

"_If_ I do, then she should be the first one to hear me say it, mate."

"Fair enough."

"Feel bad enough that Elizabeth almost got killed because she was friends with me. Don't want to have to deal with anything else until after we see to this threat."

"You're aware that it probably won't be the last time she gets threatened because she's friends with you, right?" Will taunted. "You might want to try using the _Isla Muerta_ treasure to pay off some of your outstanding debts. I say 'some,' because it would probably take several treasures to pay them _all _off!"

"Oh, shut up," Jack told him sourly.


	36. The Best Pirate

Next morning Jack sent word to Teague's house for Teague, Agatha, and Elizabeth to all come out to the _Pearl_. Will had been as good as his word, and her hold was full of chests of gold coins and jewels. The four of them held a quick conference in Jack's cabin and decided to spread out the treasure in several locations, so as not to tempt thieves. To that end, only part of it was unloaded there in Shipwreck; Agatha agreed to take some of it with her back to Port Royale when she went; Jack and Elizabeth decided to bury some of it in two other locations that only they would know about.

Teague and Elizabeth went down into the hold, while Agatha stayed behind to speak to Jack for a moment.

"Thank you, Captain Sparrow, for your efforts on my niece's behalf," she told him. "I do hope that Mr Turner arranged for you to get a proper portion of this treasure as well, in payment for delivering it to us."

"Well... no, not exactly," Jack replied. It was true; Will hadn't arranged to give him any of _this_ treasure. Agatha hadn't asked him about any others.

"Oh, that dog!" Agatha fumed. "Well, let me give you this, then, until Eliza and I can sort out something more." She unclasped her long strand of pearls, every single one large, white, and perfectly round, and handed it to him.

Jack opened and closed his mouth a few times, and finally took the necklace. "Unnecessary, Auntie, but appreciated," he finally managed to choke out.

She smiled at him, one eyebrow raised. "I daresay you can add it to your ever-growing collection of my jewelry, eh?"

Jack didn't know what to say, and he felt an uncomfortable sensation of prickling heat in his face. He hadn't realized that she _knew_ how much of her jewelry he'd lifted so far.

Agatha laughed and patted his cheek. "Oh, now, I didn't mean to make you blush. Come, let's go join the others and get this treasure divided up, shall we?"

Was that what blushing felt like? Jack didn't like it. He nodded and followed her out of his cabin, down the stairs, and into the hold.

After they got the division of the loot sorted out, Elizabeth went up on deck to visit with Mr Gibbs, while Teague and Agatha lingered behind for a moment. Jack drew Agatha aside with a hand on her arm. "Auntie, I must ask you something. How on earth did you ever manage this? I mean, all you did was ask him for it, and lo! Here it is. How did you do that?"

"I simply appealed to his sense of duty. And guilt. And honestly, isn't this much easier than all that sailing and fighting and taking ships?" She blinked at him innocently.

"But you got the entire treasure... simply by _asking_ for it? Dear, you must give me lessons! I thought I was a pretty good pirate, but I marvel at your superior expertise. Eh, Dad?"

Teague nodded his agreement, remarking in his understated way, "Figure the Pirate King must've got her talent somewhere." He offered his arm to Agatha in a courtly way, and Jack raised his eyebrows as he watched them leave the ship together. He didn't blame his dad for wanting to keep _that_ one close! She was the most dangerous pirate he'd ever met!

"...Just by _asking_ for it," he muttered, shaking his head in wonder.

* * *

_Note: A reader asked me if I had read the Disney-approved novels about the young Jack Sparrow's life, or if I was going to incorporate them at all. The answers are no, and no. I have created a completely different background for Jack in this story, so if you are expecting familiar characters such as Araballa, they will not be showing up. Sorry if this engenders any disappointment; however, I am using just the films and deleted scenes as canon for this (and some of the writers' comments as well, if they fit)._


	37. Preparation

Jack spent the next several days on the _Empress_ with Elizabeth, teaching her how to maneuver around the cove and just outside it. "'Tisn't for naught they call this 'Shipwreck Cove,' as Gibbs would say," he reminded her. He taught her where the shoals were, outside the cove, and how to avoid the reef right at the entrance to the cove. They discussed various formations which would be possible, depending on which direction the wind was coming from. By the fifth day, Jack stood by silently and watched Elizabeth take her ship all around the cove, the entrance to it, and much of the open sea where the battle would be. He was visibly impressed.

"For a junk, your _Empress_ moves pretty well," he complimented. "Course, she'll still get splintered if she's hit, but at this rate you'll be able to dodge the cannonballs before they even land!"

"Thank you, Jack!" Elizabeth told him with a grin. "It's been a long time since I've had this much fun on a ship."

Jack opened his mouth to say something salacious, but evidently thought better of it and closed it again. "Glad you're enjoying yourself," he said finally. "And wasn't it nice of me to come and rescue you from your dull little existence—I'd hesitate to call it a life—in your dull little cottage in that dull little town of Flimwell?"

"Oh, yes," she replied sarcastically. "How shall I ever repay you?"

Jack gave her a grin that glinted with gold and mischief. "Don't forget there's still that huge favor you'll owe me."

"How can I forget? You won't let me!"

"Not for an instant," Jack promised. "I have plans for that favor! All right, take us back into the cove, then."

He had an idea. Once back in the cove, they sailed the _Empress_ right up close to the Black Pearl, and he invited her aboard. "Something there you may be interested in," he said. One of the _Empress'_ sailors put out a plank and they strode across onto the deck of the _Pearl_. The sailor pulled back the plank and the Empress drifted away to a safer distance.

They both went into Jack's cabin. "Make yourself at home," Jack invited. "It nearly is, anyway."

Elizabeth laughed and eased herself into the hammock that was still strung up across from the bed. "Still have this up?" She leaned back and relaxed.

Jack shrugged. "Too busy to take it down. Back in a minute," he said, and went out. He left the door open and Elizabeth heard some yelling, a few pounding footsteps, a loud screech, and a small splash. Jack came back in, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"What did you do?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

The corner of Jack's mouth turned up in a wry smile. "If it works, you'll see for yourself." He sat down at his desk and put his boots up on it, crossing his ankles. He tipped his hat down over his eyes and relaxed.

Ten minutes passed in this manner, and Elizabeth was beginning to drift off into a doze when suddenly they heard the sound of a lot of rushing water.

"Ah!" Jack said. "I think it worked!" He swung his feet down and went out on deck.

Elizabeth got out of the hammock rather awkwardly, as it had been a long time since she had slept in one. She followed Jack out onto the deck.

"What is it?" she asked.

He turned to her. "I invited a friend to visit." He gestured aft, and she gasped as she recognized the _Flying Dutchman_.

"What—how did you—"

"Thought you two might have some things to discuss. Things to get out in the open. Things to get… off your chest," he said with a leer at her bosom.

She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the chest with her hand. He caught it and pressed it flat against his chest for a moment. She could hear the faint pulse of his heartbeat. "I know for a fact that Will does," Jack told her quietly, dark eyes meeting hers seriously. "So don't do anything stupid that might mess up your life for the _next_ ten years as well. Savvy?" He brought up her hand and gave it a quick kiss; then, hearing Will's step as he materialized on the deck, whirled to face him.

"Hello, Will. Thought you might like to come and visit another pretty lady," Jack said. He held up Elizabeth's hand as if leading her toward Will.

Will released the newly rechristened Pigeon, and the monkey scurried across the deck and up into the rigging.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Will said, his face lighting up.

Elizabeth gave Jack's hand a grateful squeeze before releasing it. She gave Will a self-conscious smile. "Hello, Will."

There was an awkward silence.

Jack cleared his throat. "Well? Are you two going to do any talking, or shall I do it all?"

"You do anyway," Elizabeth teased, tossing him a swift smile. "Long after you should stop, usually."

"Aye, well," he replied with a wicked smile, "You usually like what I have to say, love, and you know it."

Will's eyes darted between the two of them, and he cleared his throat. "Jack?" he asked. "Mind if Elizabeth and I borrow your cabin for a bit?"

Jack nodded with a bit of a grimace. "All yours."

* * *

_Note: This chapter contains a reiteration of the pronoun/antecedent grammar lesson. This bit of this chapter originally read:_ _Will released the newly rechristened Pigeon, and the monkey scurried across the deck and up into the rigging._  
_"Hello, Elizabeth," he said, his face lighting up._

_I ask you, to which character does "he" refer to in that last sentence? The most recently-mentioned noun. Yes, my friends, that's right-according to the grammar of this sentence, Jack has a talking monkey. And not only a talking monkey, but one who is glad to see Elizabeth! Between the monkey and Teague's dog, these sure are some talented animals._

_Learn from my error, my friends: Grammar counts! when you use a pronoun, make sure you're aware of which noun it's pointing to. It always refers to the most recent noun mentioned... every time!_


	38. Resolution, Part I

William held out his hand to Elizabeth. She hesitated for an instant before she took it, and they walked together into the captain's cabin. Elizabeth closed the door behind them. She leaned against it for a moment, just looking at him. Will had been a part of her life since childhood, but the events of the last several years had changed both of them in profound ways. There were changes that she hadn't had the chance to learn about before they had been plunged into a morass of betrayal, misunderstandings, heartbreak, and death. Their shipboard "wedding" had been wildly romantic to a girl who fully expected to die in the next few minutes; the reality of being alone to bear and raise her child over the last eighteen months had been anything but that.

The consummation of their "marriage" had been nice, but even though she loved Will, it hadn't really sunk in at the time that he would be gone for years afterwards. For that one day it had seemed as if he was once again the Will of her childhood, the Will that she had fallen in love with. It wasn't until after he had returned to the _Dutchman_ that she began to realize that it was real: that she had bound herself in matrimony for the rest of her life to a man she might see perhaps four more times. A few months later when she realized she was pregnant, the dismal reality truly hit her, that she would have to carry, bear, and raise their child entirely on her own. She would age, while he would look exactly the same. Even their baby would eventually age past his father.

When Aunt Agatha had informed her that she wasn't really married, she had been upset, yes—but there had been a guilty instant of sheer relief before the grief had set in. She felt that same relief now, looking at him across Jack's cabin.

"Let's sit," she told him.

Will nodded, obviously feeling just as uncomfortable as she did. She took Jack's usual spot at the end of the table, and Will pulled out the chair just around the corner from it.

Elizabeth asked him about the _Dutchman_, about his job as ferryman, and about his relationship with his father. Then he wanted to hear about the past year, about their baby, and about their battle with influenza. She told him about her friend in the village who had written to Jack, and that he had come and got them out of there just in time to save them from the pirate attack a week later—a pirate attack that her friend had not survived.

As they talked, the discomfort between them melted away and they were once again the friends they had used to be. Elizabeth got up after a while and got them some wine.

"Jack doesn't know I found this," she told him. "But when I was recovering, I had to stay in here for days, and there was nothing else to do but go through his things!" She giggled, a little embarrassed. "Don't tell him."

Will nodded. "I wish you could have seen Jack telling me about what he had to do to save your life," he said with a half-smile. "First time I've ever seen him actually sweat. He thought I was going to kill him, especially after he told me about the bathing."

"What bathing?"

"He didn't tell you?"

She shook her head.

"He had to give you a bath before they brought you and the baby onto the Pearl. Apparently it was by necessity a very thorough one. He was horribly self-conscious and embarrassed about it."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I'll bet he was! I don't blame him for not telling me! He must have thought I was going to kill him!"

Will smirked. "Actually, I think he thought _I_ was going to kill him. But quite frankly, I'd expected you to be angry about it. You seem surprisingly sanguine."

Elizabeth flushed a little. "Jack and I had a big misunderstanding, my first morning here. I misjudged him very badly. In the course of working it out, we worked out several other misunderstandings as well. We owe our son's life to him, Will, and I owe him mine at least a dozen times over."

"Jack's a good man," Will agreed.

"With very little evidence to the contrary, as it turns out" Elizabeth murmured to herself. They fell into a silence for a few minutes and then she took a sip of her wine and asked, "Will—Will, is it true that we're not really married? My aunt and Captain Teague told me so, but I didn't know what to think."

Will swallowed hard and nodded, shoulders slumped. "Apparently there are a number of reasons it was never valid in the first place... but Elizabeth, even if it was valid at the time, it wouldn't be any longer."

"How can that be?"

Will licked his lips. "Well, I died. Jones stabbed me in the heart and it stopped beating. Marriages last 'until death do us part,' and I was quite dead."

"But you're alive! Your heart is beating, even though it's still in a box, but you walk around, you sail, you talk, you sleep, you eat—"

He shook his head. "I don't eat. I don't sleep. I walk and talk and sail, but I'm not exactly alive. If my heart were placed back into my body, it wouldn't beat anymore. I'd be dead." He met her gaze seriously and reached over and took her hand. "You're a widow, Elizabeth. You were widowed less than ten minutes after you were married. I'm so sorry."

"So we couldn't remarry, then?" She had to make sure, before she could close this chapter.

He shook his head. "Even if we could, I wouldn't do that to you. It would be terribly foolish. Your aunt had some choice things to say to me about that, and after I calmed down and thought about it I realized she was right. It would be nothing but selfish to keep you tied to me for the rest of your life when I can't even be with you. Besides, the dead can't marry, and I am, technically, dead."

"But what about our wedding night? We have a child, Will. I'm sure the dead can't father children!"

Will cleared his throat and flushed a little, shifting nervously in his chair. "That was a special case, it seems. A one-time gift from Calypso, or so she told me."

"You've spoken to Calypso? Since she regained her powers?"

Will flushed darker. "Of—of course. She's the goddess of the sea. I see her often."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, thinking of Jack's warning before she'd seen Will. Something about knowing that Will had to get some things off his chest?

"Will, is something going on between you and Calypso?" she asked quietly.

Will didn't answer, or meet her eyes.

"Will?"

"There wasn't," he told her quietly. "I have been faithful to you as well, I swear it, until I found out that you and I weren't married. Now… there is '_something_ going on,' as you put it. I don't know yet how serious."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, a note of dismay in her voice. "And here I was concerned that you'd be lonely out here by yourself for a decade."

There was another awkward silence. Will fidgeted.

She gave a cynical chuckle. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I still remember how she fawned all over you, when I first met her at her house. She acted as if you and she were old lovers, talking about when you'd been there _last time._"

"Yes, but what about you and Jack?" Will asked, with a calculating glint in his eye. "I've not forgotten the way you kissed him, right before the _Pearl_ went down. Then he tells me about making regular midnight visits to you while I'm gone! The two of you looked quite cozy just now, holding hands and teasing and all."

"If you recall," Elizabeth shot back, "I kissed him to distract him from what I was about to do to him—something for which he's been generous enough to forgive me!"

"So there's nothing between you and Jack?" Will pressed.

"I care about Jack a great deal. He's been a very good friend to me, and that's _all_ he's been so far, so you can just take your insinuations right back below the waterline with you!" Her eyes flashed. "And even if there _might _be more than that between us at some point, it would be none of your business now that you're not my husband. Whatever 'something' you have going on with Calypso is certainly none of mine." She closely resembled her aunt in her fury.

Will ducked his head, cowed. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry." He took both her hands in his. "I am so sorry, Elizabeth—for all of it."

She began to calm down. "You don't owe me any apologies for marrying me, Will."

"Never that. I'm just sorry I married you and then left you. And truly, I don't begrudge you your relationship with Jack, of whatever sort it may be. Or with whomever you may find in the future, as long as he treats you well and makes you happy."

"And I suppose you're free to associate with the sea goddess if you like," Elizabeth muttered a little sulkily.

Will laughed at her, and after a moment she smiled back. "She only likes me for my 'touch o' destiny,' he said, mimicking Calypso's accent.

Elizabeth gave him a knowing smile. "Oh, I doubt that's all she likes you for."

Will squirmed in his chair. "Elizabeth..."

"Will, I don't want you to be lonely. In Flimwell I had Mrs Thomas, and I had Jack, and here I've had my aunt and Captain Teague and Tai Huang as well. When you're at sea, you don't have _anyone_ who isn't your crewman. I've had weeks to get used to the idea that we're not married, and part of that was getting used to the idea of us being free to find other people. If you can find happiness with Calypso, or with anyone else, you have my blessing."

Elizabeth gave him a self-conscious smile and told him honestly, "I may still be a little jealous, but that's my problem, not yours—and it doesn't reflect my deep, true feelings on the matter, only my shallow, superficial ones."

Will nodded, his face softening. "That's exactly how I feel about you and Jack. I feel as if you're mine and mine alone, but beneath that I know I can't be with you and I really do want you to find someone to be happy with. Even if it's _Jack_," he added, spitting out the name with a hint of asperity.

"Oh, very nice," Elizabeth mocked playfully. "Very noble! I even believed you, right up until the end there."

Will tried for a moment to get her to believe him, but then he gave up with a rueful laugh. "You're right. I can't stand him half the time. I hate the thought of him taking care of you, him being all the things to you that I should be but can't. I hate knowing that he knows you better than I do, and always has. I _hate_ the thought of him touching you."

Elizabeth stared at him, eyes wide. "Will…"

He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. "But the thing is, Elizabeth, I love you. You've been my friend since we were children. Even if you're not my wife, I want what is best for you. And much as I loathe the idea with every fiber of my being, I really do think that what's best for you might actually be Jack—simply because he _can_ take care of you, and he _can_ be all the things to you that I should be but can't, and he _does_ know you better than I do, and always has."

"I don't hate it, though," Elizabeth confessed in a very small voice, eyes downcast. "The thought of his touching me. I'd been so afraid that it was someone else who had cleaned me up before they took me on board. Ragetti, can you imagine? Eugh! Or even Gibbs? Knowing that _Jack_ was the one who bathed me is really a huge relief. I'm so sorry, Will. I _don't_ hate the thought of him touching me." She looked back up, eyes filled with trepidation. "Does that make me whorish?"

Will was silent, staring at her. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He shut his eyes and shook his head, and then spoke. "You're not a whore, Elizabeth. I am a wretch. I'm completely eaten up by jealousy over the thought of you with another man, when you're not the one who has been unfaithful."

"We really aren't married, Will," she reminded him. "I'm not sure it counts as adultery."

He gave her a pained smile. "But you haven't taken up with Jack before talking things over with me, have you? I have, with Calypso. I could have found some other treasure and got it myself instead of asking her for her help, but I didn't. I could have paid her for that treasure with some other kind of coin, but didn't; I chose to give her what she asked for, because I wanted it, too. It might not have been adultery, but it _was_ infidelity. I am truly sorry. And I'm sorry about being such a jealous wretch, too. Please believe me—I would rather have you with someone who can take care of you, and suffer the pangs of jealousy over it, than have you be faithful to me and be completely alone. You deserve to be loved, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled for a moment, but then sobered. "I'm not sure Jack feels anything like that for me," she said. "Aunt Agatha seems convinced he does, but he's such a good friend already—and he has always been a bit flirty with me, so it's hard to tell."

Will raised one eyebrow and gave her a half-smile. "I think you may be surprised at his depth of feeling for you. If you can ever get him to be serious, I think you'll find that he's… well, quite serious."

"Do you really think so?" Elizabeth asked, blushing a little.

He nodded. "Would you like that? Do you… like… him?" He couldn't quite keep himself from grimacing at the thought.

She graciously ignored the face he made. She shook her head, not in negation, but in confusion. "I hardly know. For so long I've been used to rebuffing him and keeping him at arms' length. I have been faithful to you, Will, in body, mind, and heart." She purposely didn't mention her dreams, which had been fairly redolent of Jack for the last year or so, and some of them quite… charged.

She went on. "But now everything is different. Knowing that I would be free to reciprocate such feelings—if he indeed has them for me—well, it changes things. I'm just not sure how, yet. He's been my best and closest friend for over a year now, and he's the only person who ever really understood me. Sorry," she added apologetically, "But it's true; you said it yourself."

Will nodded, with a resigned air.

"He seems to know what I'm thinking, most of the time, even if I don't admit to _myself_ what I'm thinking. For a pirate, he demands an appalling amount of honesty from me, but he usually gives me the same in return. We trust each other. I think I _could_ come to love him if I allowed myself to. It's just that for so long, thoughts of Jack have been firmly lodged into the 'friendship only' portion of my mind. It's the 'allowing myself to' that is likely to prove problematic."

"I think," Will told her with a grimace, "—and I really, really hate myself for telling you this—but I think he might be willing to help you along there, if you gave him half a chance."

"Perhaps," replied Elizabeth, lowering her eyelids demurely.

Will smiled for a second and then sobered. "In any case, much as I hate him sometimes, he's a good man and a good friend the rest of the time. It seems we both owe Jack a great deal. I want you to know that no matter how things work out between you, you will both have my friendship. And I was thinking... you might want to see if you and your aunt can do something to make him respectable again. Piracy is becoming more and more dangerous, and if it looks as if Jack is going to be a permanent fixture in your life, then you'll want him around for Jacob's sake as well as your own. Eh?"

Elizabeth smiled; that tag question was very like Jack's usual manner of speech. For a man who claimed to hate Jack, Will had obviously been heavily influenced by the man! "You're right, of course," she said. "I'll give it some thought. After we solve this Angelica problem, that is."

Will stood up. "I must get back to my ship. I'll leave from here, and you can thank Jack for both of us for arranging this chance to talk." He held out his arms and she went into them with no awkwardness this time, although it was eerie and a little chilling not to feel a heartbeat in his chest and to feel his skin so cool. They embraced for a minute or two, and Will whispered in her ear, "We were friends before we fell in love, and we'll be friends even if we love other people. We'll at least have that."

"And we have Jacob," Elizabeth reminded him.

"Aye." Will stepped back and squeezed her hands. "Will you bring him to meet me, when I can go on land again?"

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. "If you're sure you can tear yourself out of Calypso's arms, then yes."

Will laughed. "Just make sure that your torrid romance with Jack doesn't make you forget me altogether! Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder where she had smacked him. They laughed together for a moment, just as they had done as children, and then when the laughter faded, they both had the same impulse. They leaned closer and kissed.

It was not a kiss of longing, nor of desire.

It was a brief kiss, a fond kiss, a friendly, affectionate kiss.

It was a kiss goodbye.

Will brushed her cheek with his knuckles, smiled, and vanished.


	39. Resolution, Part II

Elizabeth stayed in there long after Will had left, thinking over what he had said about Jack. She pondered her feelings for him, and wondered about his feelings for her. The sun had long since set when finally left Jack's cabin.

No time like the present to find out, she decided. But there was no one on deck. She glanced around, then looked up at the quarter-deck. Mr Gibbs was on watch.

"Evening, Mr Gibbs," she greeted him. "Where's Jack?"

Gibbs pointed silently upward. Elizabeth peered up and could just barely make out the silhouette of one of Jack's boots, sticking out from the crow's nest. She sighed.

"Might have known nothing would ever be easy, with him," she grumbled, mounting the gunwale and swinging around to climb the ratlines.

Elizabeth swung up into the crow's nest next to Jack. "Budge up," she ordered.

He gave her a suspicious glance and moved over a fraction. She squeezed in next to him, shoving him over a trifle more, to make room.

She studied him for a moment. His face was expressionless, his hat tipped low over his eyes. He was drinking.

"So it's really true," she told him. "Will confirmed it: I'm either a young widow, or a strumpet with a bastard child."

"I'd go with widow, were I you," he suggested. "More respectable."

She nodded. A silence fell. Jack tipped up the bottle again, and she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He said, "So you were in there together for an awfully long time. I assume you and your 'sweet William' reached an accord?"

"We did, I think."

"Congratulations," Jack said sarcastically. "When is the wedding to be, then?"

"What wedding?" Elizabeth asked, startled. Will had only said there _might_ be something going on with him and Calypso. Certainly nothing about a wedding! "_Whose_ wedding?"

Jack gave her a long, sidelong look. "I had assumed that you and William, after having re-consummated your relationship, as it were, would also be reviewing or remaking or re-vowing or remarrying or finding some other damn-fool way to ruin your life by legitimizing your marriage and therefore your son."

"Are you serious?" she demanded.

"Are _you_?"

Elizabeth started to flare up, but then remembered what Will had told her and took a deep, calming breath. Looked at from Jack's perspective, it might very well look as if she and Will might have borrowed his cabin for other purposes than conversation.

"First of all," she said quietly, "We're not going to remarry. Much of our discussion centered on finding other people. Second, we did not re-consummate anything. All we did was talk for a long time and then kiss each other goodbye. If we're _not_ married, it wouldn't have been right for us to do anything more, even if we wanted to! Which, to be quite frank, I _didn't._ I haven't even seen him in a year and a half. Not to mention that even touching him felt a little creepy when he's all dead and clammy now. Third, if I were to engage in that sort of activity with someone else, you think I'd do it in _your_ cabin? Fourth—"

"Hold it right there on number three, darling," Jack interrupted. "If you were to engage in that sort of activity with someone _else,_ you say? Someone other than whom?" He blinked at her in mock-innocence. "Could there be anyone with whom it _would_ be proper to engage in those sorts of activities in _my_ cabin?"

She smiled sweetly. "Well, you did tell me to make myself at home, Jack. Now hand over the bottle."

He sloshed it for a moment and licked off a stray drop from the lip of it. "Dead and clammy, eh?" he said with a smirk, and handed it to her. "Here y'are, love. Wash the taste of dead husband from your mouth."

Elizabeth did so, reflecting for a moment on the intimacy of sharing a bottle with someone. She and Jack had shared bottles dozens of times before, but she had never had any thought cross her mind before, of her mouth touching where his mouth had just been. Where his tongue had just been, in fact. She nearly blushed as she tipped it up and drank, and then handed it back.

"So you talked about finding other people, eh?" Jack asked. "That must mean he told you about Calypso?"

"Yes," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "And asked me about you."

"Oh?" Something in Jack's tone, just in that one syllable, sounded faintly nervous.

She smiled to herself, tipping her head back against Jack's upper arm so she could look up at the stars. She nodded against his arm. "He asked me if you and I had anything going on between us, and I told him you had been a good friend to me."

"That's it?" he asked, tipping up the bottle again.

"Well, you're an incorrigible flirt," she said. "Hard to tell if any of it's real."

"Real as you want it to be, darling," Jack said seriously. Hastily he continued, "Anyway, the flirting's one of the things you love most about me."

Elizabeth had to admit he was right. "Maybe."

Jack apparently hadn't expected her agreement. "Oh? So what about the _rest_ of the things you love about me? Let's hear 'em, dearie." He grinned.

"Well, your ego certainly isn't one of them!" she snapped.

He gave her a knowing look and tossed his arm over her shoulders. "Oh, I think it is. You like the 'Captain Jack Sparrow' about me. Admit it."

"Perhaps I do, a little, but to be honest, I prefer just Jack."

"Aha! So you want to know my secrets then, is that it? You seek to know the man behind the legend!" Jack's tone was light, bantering.

Elizabeth made herself a little more comfortable, nestling into the arc of his arm. She rested her forehead against the side of his neck. "I think I already do know that man. He's why I put up with the legend."

For once, it seemed as if Jack could think of nothing to say. Elizabeth felt his lips in her hair, giving her a single kiss on top of her head, and then he rested his head on hers and tightened his arm around her.

She reached over and traced the back of his other hand with her fingers, where it rested on his thigh. She toyed idly with his rings. He allowed this for a few minutes, stroking her wrist with his thumb, and then he opened his hand out flat on his thigh. She ran her fingers down the back of his hand between his fingers, and he closed his fist trapping her fingertips inside. He lifted her hand to his lips for a long moment, then released it.

"I'd better get you back to Teague's," he said. "Especially before we drink too much to climb down."

Elizabeth snorted with amusement. "Imagine how Aunt Agatha would scold!" She swung her legs over the side of the crow's nest, feeling for purchase on the ratlines.

"She'll probably give me a scolding as 'tis," Jack said. "Keeping you out so late, and you with a baby an' all." He took one last gulp, corked the bottle, and shoved it into his shirt before following her down.


	40. Cohesion and Collusion

Jack rowed them both ashore and walked her back to his father's house. He would have offered his arm, but they'd fallen into the habit of walking arm-in-arm only when she wore skirts. She had worn trousers for her day of sailing practice. She invited him in when they arrived, but he only came as far as the front hallway.

"It's late, darling, and it's been a long day for you," he explained. "You're still not 100% yet after your illness, and I put you through your paces today. You ought to get some sleep."

She nodded, stifling a yawn. "You're probably right." She gave him a mischievous smile and teased, "Isn't every day a girl gets 'Captain Jack Sparrow' to teach her navigation, is it?"

He returned her smile. "Just 'Jack,' to you, Liz. Since you prefer it."

Elizabeth slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for today, Jack," she whispered.

Jack slowly slid his arms around her in turn, and his eyes fell closed. "'Twas my pleasure, darling," he replied quietly, and just held her for a while. He kissed her on the temple just in front of her hairline, and stroked her cheek as he disengaged from the hug. "Best see to your baby and get to bed, love," he advised, "while I 'scape your auntie's wrath. I'm sure she'd never believe you spent all this time just talking with Will!" He flashed a quick grin and was out the door.

Elizabeth laughed and turned to go upstairs. "Even though I did," she murmured to herself.

Teague's voice from the sitting-room doorway stopped her. "All right, Miss Liz?"

"Fine, thank you, sir," she replied politely.

"My son treating you all right?" he pressed.

"Quite gentlemanly, thank you, Captain Teague," she assured him.

"Glad to hear it," he told her. "Bit of a rascal, my son, but I'd have for you or your auntie to have to kill him."

"Certainly never again," Elizabeth told him, shamefaced. "Not that he deserved it, even then." This was awkward, speaking to her host about the fact that she had once caused him untold grief by killing his firstborn son.

"Aye, but 'twas the only way, lass," he told her. "'S what makes you a good pirate, the ability to do what you have to do no matter how much it hurts. Jack respects that." Teague started to go back into the room, but then turned back and added, "As do I."

"Thank you, Captain," Elizabeth said, meaning it with every ounce of her being. "Good night, sir."

His voice called back, pointedly amused, "Good _morning_, Miss Liz."

Elizabeth stood alone and still in the hallway for a moment awash in relief. She felt as if a giant weight had rolled off her shoulders with the knowledge of Teague's forgiveness as well as Jack's. She sighed and rolled her shoulders a little, and then headed upstairs to check on Jacob and to wake Maggie and send her to bed.

Downstairs in the sitting room, Agatha glanced up when Teague re-entered. "Well?" she asked eagerly.

Teague's craggy face softened in a smile. "She saw her husband," he told her.

Agatha's eyes widened in surprise. "And?"

"And she was hugging my Jacky most affectionate in the hallway just now."

Agatha raised her eyebrows. "_Was_ she, now?"

"Aye. Assured me he was treating her 'quite gentlemanly,' as she said."

Agatha looked askance at him. "But is that a good thing or a bad thing, Edward?"

He shrugged. "Not sure. First time it's ever happened. My boy's always been a devil with the ladies, but he's never had one for a real friend before, nor loved any of 'em. If he felt himself getting close to it, he'd leave 'er right away. But you notice he's still around, and when he does leave, he comes right back."

"Indeed," Agatha said with some satisfaction. "We shall have to wait and see how events unfold, shan't we, then?"

Teague gave a dry, creaky chuckle. "Aye. And mayhap help 'em unfold a bit faster, eh, Ag'tha?"

Agatha tried to look innocent. "Well, they're neither of 'em getting any younger, are they?"

"Nay," Teague agreed. "Nor are we."


	41. Elizapiphany

As they prepared their respective ships for battle and waited for Angelica to arrive, Elizabeth found herself drawing closer to Jack. They spend most of their days together, either on the Pearl, at Teague's house, or exploring the town and the island. They fell into a pattern: she would feed Jacob in the morning and then don trousers and go off with Jack until lunchtime. Then they would return to Teague's house for lunch, pick up the baby, and go out again. Often the mornings would be filled with more sparring or navigation practice, but sometimes Jack would just take her on long rambles around the island. Jack showed her many of his old haunts from when he'd spent some time there in his late teens, and she learned more about his early life. Elizabeth was fascinated. The more she learned, the more curious she became. What, exactly, went into the making of a Captain Jack Sparrow, anyway?

"And here I thought you'd sprung fully formed from your father's forehead, ship and all," she teased.

Jack snickered. "Alas, 'twasn't the case. Not very wise or virginal, am I?"

Elizabeth blushed. "I didn't mean—I was only—that is—" Then she thought of something and looked back at him. "Jack, where did you go to school?"

"Why d'ye ask?" he asked warily.

"Well, you go to great lengths to portray yourself as a drunken, illiterate pirate, yet you don't really drink that much most of the time; you have a tremendous vocabulary; you write beautifully; in fact, you show many of the signs of having had an excellent classical education. How many pirates would have got that reference to Athena just now?"

Jack shrugged. "Sailors pick things up. I've been to Greece."

"Yes, I know, but…" she slipped her arm into his as they reached the edges of the town where no one could see them. "But if you lived in England and helped bring up your brother and sister, then where did you get your education?" she persisted.

"Not going to let this go either, are you," he remarked. It was not a question.

She shook her head. "You know me better than that."

He sighed mournfully. "I do, it's true." When she dug her nails into his arm, he grinned at her and pried her fingers up again. "Fine, then. Me step-mum taught me. Said I'd need every advantage she could offer me. She'd been a governess, a long time before she married Teague, so she taught me just as if I'd been her own." Jack pulled his arm out of Elizabeth's grasp, laced his fingers between hers, and tugged her along with him as he walked. "An' that's all I'm sayin' on the subject."

She brought Jacob out to the Black Pearl a few times, after Jack's crew had finished scraping and repairing it and had put it back into the water. She was amused by how Jack spoke to the baby, bringing him up to the forecastle and addressing him as he would another adult.

"This here's the bowsprit," he told the child, shifting the baby's weight to one arm so he could point and make his dramatic gestures with the other. "Under that is the figurehead. See the pretty angel down there? She sort of embodies the personality of the whole ship. I'n't she beautiful? And this is the foremast, and these sails are the jib and the flying jib. Keep that in mind."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Why should he keep it in mind? You realize that at this moment, his mind is probably occupied with such thoughts as 'bright sun,' 'hungry,' and 'want to eat those beads'?"

Jack looked, and sure enough, Jacob had snagged the string of beads from his hair and was gumming on them. Carefully he removed them from the baby's mouth and offered him Tai Huang's teething ring instead, which was tied around the baby's neck on a string. "Try that instead, Master Jake. Less likely to swallow it and have it disagree with you."

Jake didn't agree, and shoved his bottom lip out in a fearsome pout. Jack grinned. "You realize," he informed the child, "that if you stick that lip out any further, seagulls are going to come a build a nest on it?"

Elizabeth came over and held out her arms. "Let's see if some lunch will help improve his mood," she suggested.

Jack gave her a gleaming grin. "It certainly would improve mine, if 'twere offered in a similar fashion!"

Elizabeth gasped, jaw dropping in outrage, before she turned on her heel and stomped away toward Jack's cabin.

"Need any help?" Jack called after her, laughing.

"No, thank you!" was her crisp reply as she slammed the door and shot the bolt home before she went and sat down on his bed to nurse her baby.

"Oh, that man!" she grumbled to herself. "What am I going to do with him? He's such an incorrigible lecher!"

He wasn't, though. Not anymore. She thought about him as she sat there feeding her baby. Jack still said shocking things to make her blush so he could laugh at her, but his actual conduct had been that of a gentleman. She hadn't seen him with any other women since they had arrived in Shipwreck weeks (or was it months?) ago. He still flirted all the time, but his remarks usually held more of an affectionate tone than a lecherous one.

They touched a lot more than they used to, as well. They didn't walk arm-in-arm when she wore trousers in town, but as soon as they were out of sight of anyone, he would often offer an elbow for her to take, or would toss an arm around her shoulders. Sometimes she slipped her hand into his as they walked, and these days there was nearly always a hug and a kiss on the cheek when they parted for the night. Neither one of them spoke aloud about it, but Elizabeth was surprised at how comfortable it was.

When she and Will had been courting, every touch had been tentative, fraught with nervousness, every timid gesture carefully guarded for fear he would think ill of her for being too forward. She suspected it had been the same for him—all the more so because he was so far below her in station. Each separate gesture of affection, whether it was a kiss or just holding hands, carried the weight of so much meaning that she and Will had never become comfortable with touching each other.

Jack wasn't like that. He was not in the least bit shy about reaching out to touch her, to hold her hand, to stroke her hair, to caress her cheek. In return he seemed to revel in her touches, welcoming even the most innocent affectionate gesture with a pleased smile.

Elizabeth had gone for two years without being touched by anyone. She'd had no hugs from her father anymore, no awkward-but-significant hand-holding with Will, not even any servants to help her dress and do her hair every morning. She hadn't realized how starved for touch she had become, until Jack started reaching out to her so often.

She found, paradoxically, that his affectionate gestures were more meaningful when each separate one didn't carry so much individual significance. Touching Will had been like visiting someone important and being on your best behavior. Touching Jack was like arriving home again afterwards.

"God help me," she whispered to her suckling son. "I'm falling in love with him!"

She reflected that Will's dalliance with Calypso had freed Elizabeth in a way. It no longer seemed strange to her that she wasn't married to Will. His long absence had made their childhood romance seem more like a dream or a story now, and their last conversation aboard the _Pearl_ had established Will very clearly as a close friend but that was all. Really, she mused, Will and Jack had pretty much switched places in her mind. If they weren't married at all, and if Will had already found someone else, then she felt no qualms of conscience regarding her resurging interest in Jack.

And it was definitely resurging. It had always been there, but she had ignored it and tamped it down for the two years or so that she had been married to Will. She had told Will the truth: she had been faithful to him in both body and mind. She had carefully disciplined her mind to relegate any thoughts of Jack into the "friend" category, and not to take his flirting seriously. She hadn't allowed any interest or attraction to Jack enter her conscious mind the whole time—but at the same time she couldn't forget the compass pointing in Jack's direction whenever she held it, and she couldn't forget the taste of his kiss or the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

When she slept it was another story. She flushed now, remembering some of her dreams from the last two years. Her conscious mind had been carefully disciplined, it was true; however, her subconscious mind had longed for Jack—for his flamboyant presence, his voice, his touch, his kiss… and yes, his body. Now that she knew what men and women did together, she could no longer deny her curiosity about what it would be like to do them with Jack, to sleep with him, wake with him, live with him, share herself with him. She still dreamed of him often, and sometimes the dreams were normal, friendly sorts of dreams. Other times, they left her gasping and blushing when she woke. Physically, viscerally, she wanted him. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to strip off all the layers that made up "Captain Jack Sparrow" and make him naked and vulnerable and hers. Her Jack.

The physical affection they had begun to show, however innocent, only made her longings worse. She could finally admit what she hadn't let herself admit even when the compass pointed to him: she wanted him.

But wanting did not equal love.

She did know that he was the first person she thought of when she wanted to talk or share something; he was the only person she trusted unequivocally, with both her and her child's life.

Trusting him with her _heart_ was more of a risk. Jack himself had told her about when he developed "feelings" for Angelica, he took to his heels and left her. Elizabeth also hadn't been exaggerating when she had told Aunt Agatha that Jack had a girl in every port and two in some. If she and Jack did begin a romance, would he abandon her when the harsh reality of it hit him, and go running back to his easy, no-fuss string of whores?

Elizabeth couldn't stand the thought of being thrown over for a whore; yet, for a man of Jack's temperament and experience to settle down with one woman who already had a baby—well, he had always been a free spirit. She wouldn't really blame him if he decided it wasn't for him.

However, Jack had proven his friendship time and time again over the past year in addition to all the previous years. She decided to take him at his word, when he'd told her in the crow's nest that his flirtation was as real as she wanted it to be. The more time she spent with him, the more sure she became that she wanted it to be very real, indeed.

She decided, sitting there in Jack's cabin where she had spent so much time under his care, that she would be honest with him. She would speak first, sparing him the risk of being rejected. She would rather risk it herself. She could do that much for him, at least, and leave the choice up to him. She would not go into this battle without his knowing how she felt about him.


	42. For Good Luck

When Angelica finally showed up, everyone was ready. The lookout stations on the hills at the entrance to the cove had their swivel guns primed and ready to go. The "fort" at the side of the cove, with its four long-nines, was fully supplied with men and ammunition. Since the _Pearl_ wasn't going to be fighting, Jack had assigned his best gunner to lead the rest of the _Pearl's_ crew who would be fighting from the fort with the long-nines.

Marty was fully cognizant of the honor, and strutted up the hill to the fort as if he'd been born to command. The fort was built right into the hill itself, reinforced with cut stone and heavy wood beams. It could withstand nearly anything, but it couldn't be seen from the entrance to the cove unless the nines were actually sticking out ready to be fired.

The _Revenge_, the _Empress_, and the _Enforcer_—along with their respective captains—were fully prepared, and the _Pearl _had been anchored outside of the cove, out of the way of the battle.

Suddenly the lookout bell rang, warning the island of approaching ships, and the entire Cove became a beehive of activity. The lookout sent a messenger down to Pirate Hall, where Teague, Jack, Barbossa, Elizabeth, and Tai Huang were meeting. "Ships coming! Warships! Make Ready!"

"Here we go," Jack said, rising. "If she's bringing along Beckett's armada, we'll parley. Anything less than that, and we'll thrash 'em ourselves. Savvy?"

"Aye."

"Yes."

"Got it."

"Let's go."

Jack and Elizabeth were sitting at the far end of the table, so they waited until the others had filed out before following. Jack reached for her hand and held it as they left the room together. When they reached the point where they'd have to separate to go to their respective ships, they stopped. A squeeze of hands, a brief brush of lips to cheeks, and they moved to go their separate ways.

Or they would have done, if Elizabeth hadn't grabbed his hand back and said his name. He turned back with a questioning look.

Heart pounding, she tried twice to meet his eyes before succeeding. "Jack," she whispered again.

His brows drew together in concern. "Liz? You all right?"

She didn't answer, but stepped closer to him. She raised her hand and ghosted her fingertips over his lips. She licked her lips and opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out.

Jack's face softened and he reached out to caress her face in turn, stroking his thumb over her lips. "Love, do you want me to kiss you?"

She closed her mouth again and nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Because of the bet," Jack said flatly, withdrawing his hand.

"No," she replied. "Not because of the bet. Because—" She took a deep, wavering breath. "Because once… wasn't enough," she managed to tell him, hating how breathless her voice sounded.

He looked puzzled at first, and then she watched the light of understanding and remembrance dawn in his eyes.

"That a fact?" he murmured, coming closer.

"Was—was it for you?" she asked, swallowing.

His eyes caught hers, turning even darker, and she couldn't look away as he leaned closer. "Never," he whispered against her lips before capturing them with his.

The kiss was far better than their first one had been, when Jack had been too shocked to respond at first, and Elizabeth had been busily planning out how to shackle him without his noticing, and they had both been terrified of the kraken. Beneath all that had been the sweet flavor of rum on his lips, the sea-salt taste of his skin, the warm, muscular feel of his body against hers.

It wasn't the passionate claiming she'd been expecting from a pirate. This was the slow, tender exploration of a man who loved her. Elizabeth felt as if she was nearly drowning in the sensations of his body against hers, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his lips, the teasing tickle of his mustache and beard.

She broke the kiss, panting, but Jack didn't let her breathe for long. "Oh, I remember _this,_" he growled, and pulled her closer to kiss her again, more deeply. He tasted like her dreams of him this last year, when she had awakened so often breathless in the night, with the taste of rum and salt on her lips. He ended the kiss and stared at her, one hand tangled in her hair. She had never seen such an expression of gladness and warmth in his eyes before. "Seems we have some things to talk about," he said in a voice as soft and rough as raw silk.

She nodded, sliding her hands along his neck under his hair. "Seems so," she agreed.

He closed his eyes to further appreciate the sensation, and then suddenly started to laugh. She abruptly pulled her hands away and stepped back with a scowl, but he caught her hands and held them firmly against his chest.

"You _do_ choose the oddest and most inappropriate moments to get amorous with me," he teased, using his grip on her hands to pull her back into his arms and hold her there.

Elizabeth hadn't thought of it from that perspective before, and she had to laugh. "Suppose I do," she admitted. "Sorry."

He leaned in to taste her lips again. "I don't mind," he said in that raw-silk voice of his, and gave her another of those drowning, consuming kisses.

The lookout bell rang again, and he broke the kiss but kept his face nuzzled against hers. "Damn," he muttered.

"We have to go," Elizabeth said. She cupped his face and kissed him once more, mouth closed, lips lingering against his, and when it was over he was giving her that heart-meltingly soft look again.

"Come find me afterwards, love," he said. "We'll talk then."

"I will," she promised.

"And be careful out there." He warned her pleasantly, "If you do anything stupid, I'll kill you."

"That goes for you, too," she shot back, "And I've had practice!" She was rewarded by the sound of his laughter as he hurried his arm-flailing way down to get out to Barbossa's ship.

She smiled and ran the opposite way toward her _Empress_. Sao Ri, one of Sao Feng's relatives, was waiting in a jolly boat to row her out to the ship.

"Thank you, Ri," she told him, moving up to sit next to him and take the other oar. "It'll go faster if both of us row."

Sao Ri gave her a worshipful glance and bent his back to match her rowing strokes.

The _Empress_ crew could never be thoroughly convinced that Elizabeth _wasn't_ in fact the goddess of the sea.


	43. The Spanish Armada

Jack rowed out to to the Queen Anne's Revenge and was greeted with smiles and claps on the back by all the men whom he had incited to mutiny when they'd sailed together under Blackbeard. He nodded to the cabin boy and found Scrum and shook hands with him. The fact that they'd held each other at sword point the last time they'd seen each other did not affect either of them; they grinned and thumped each other's backs like best friends.

Barbossa came stumping over to them. "Scrum, you'll be on deck, manning the big gun. Get it ready. Jack, come with me. With that mighty spyglass of yours, you'll be lookout as well as musketman,."

Jack smirked and followed him up to the quarter-deck. The sun was up by now, and the fog was beginning to lift. He unfurled his spyglass and looked to the horizon.

There it was. _El Gavilón_ was a huge Spanish war galleon, and—yes, there she was—was captained by Angelica Teach. At the moment, he could see her on deck, staring through her own spyglass at the _Black Pearl_. Probably wondering why it was anchored, with furled sails and no one on deck, Jack thought to himself. He had left only Gibbs and Cotton on board, with directions to stay below out of sight unless they got boarded, and to fire a signal flare if they did. Jack was hoping that Angelica's curiosity would likely incite her to make mistakes.

Angelica swung her spyglass over toward to _Revenge_, and Jack quickly ducked out of sight. He didn't want to be seen until he was ready to be seen.

An oath from Barbossa made him pop his head back up to look again. The fog was lifting to reveal—

"Bugger," Jack agreed. "Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!" There were six Spanish warships following the _Gavilón_. One bugger for each ship.

"Good God!" cried Scrum from the main deck. "She must have half the Spanish navy with her!" He glanced up at Jack on the quarter-deck. "You sure have a way with the ladies, squire!"

"Apparently so," Jack murmured. None of the plans they had come up with allowed for Angelica's bringing so many ships with her! Even if the _Pearl _were fighting, _and_ if the _Dutchman _joined them, they would _still_ be outnumbered. "Bugger!" he said again, summing up the whole situation. He looked up at Barbossa, who was gazing at the _Gavilón_ with a serene, yet faintly predatory expression on his face.

It was the _Gavilón_ that fired the first shot: just one single warning shot over the bow of the _Revenge_.

"What's she doing, Jack?" asked Barbossa, squinting into the risen sun.

Jack opened his huge spyglass and took a look. "Ha. She's looking through _her_ spyglass, trying to see who we are," he replied. He lowered the spyglass and grinned. "She's seen us together. We really ought to greet the lady, Hector."

Barbossa took off his hat and waved it wildly at the _Gavilón_. Jack waved both arms in a cheerful greeting. Both men smiled broadly. Jack raised the spyglass back up and grinned. "She's dancing with rage and swearing. Better get ready for cannonfire."

Sure enough, they didn't have long to wait before a short volley of cannonballs came whistling through the air at them.

"Missed!" Jack yelled back, taunting her.

"Return fire!" Barbossa yelled. "Jaaack, it seems to me almost as if the lady ain't happy to see us!"

The _Revenge_ shot a volley at the _Gavilón_. One of them hit a cannon on the deck. It flipped end-over-end and smashed through the gunwale on the other side. Another smashed through the bowsprit, leaving the foremasts flapping uselessly.

The second Spanish ship sailed up to join _El Gavilón_ and fired a volley at the _Revenge_. It fell short. They heard the thud of a couple of balls hitting the side, but no cracking of timbers.

A third ship began to move up into position to attack the _Revenge_, and Jack exchanged worried glances with Barbossa. He set down the glass and picked up his musket.

Teague's _Enforcer_ moved up to flank the first Spaniard, trapping it between the two pirate vessels.

"Fire, ya bunch of melonheads!" shouted Barbossa. "We'll grind it up between us like sausage!"

"'Melonheads,' Hector?" Jack asked, amused, as he took aim with his musket at one of the gunners on the _Gavilón_. "Your profanity's shocking, even for a sailor." He pulled the trigger and the gunner hit the deck. He tossed down the empty musket for the cabin boy to reload.

"Oh, shut it," Barbossa told him sourly.

Jack raised his glass to see what was happening. He couldn't see much; the air was filled with smoke from the cannons. All around him he could hear men screaming and moaning in pain, shouting in Spanish, cursing in English. The boom of the cannons was nearly deafening, combined with the crack of muskets.

There was one deep BOOM! and Barbossa looked up, startled. "What was that?"

"Ha ha ha!" Jack crowed, laughing in glee as he focused his spyglass on the furthest ship. "Marty's just taken out one of the warships with the long-nine on the hill! Ha!" The breeze freshened and lifted some of the smoke-haze.

Barbossa laughed and whooped. "Down to six!" he cried.

Jack caught movement from the corner of his eye. "Look out!" Jack screamed, diving for Barbossa's legs. They both went down hard. A cannonball splintered through the deck exactly where Barbossa had been standing.

Barbossa had landed squarely on top of Jack, knocking the breath from his body. Barbossa untangled his foot and his wooden leg from Jack's baldric and rolled off the smaller man. "Why, thank ye, Jack," he said calmly. He rolled to his feet and offered Jack a hand.

Jack lay there for a moment, wondering if his body would ever remember how to breathe again. Barbossa nodded. "Knocked your wind out?" He waited, hand out, until Jack could breathe again enough to get up. They both glared over at the Spanish ship at the disappointed gunner.

"Here, sir!" chirped the cabin boy, shoving a reloaded musket back into Jack's hands. With one smooth motion, Jack lifted the musket to his shoulder and shot the gunner dead. Barbossa grunted in satisfaction. Jack handed the musket back to the boy, who scampered down to reload it again.

_El Gavilón_ had lost some more guns in the last volley and had some holes above the waterline, but had sustained no serious damage yet. The _Queen Anne's Revenge_—whether due to Blackbeard's magic or just her sturdy English oak—only had a couple of hits, and they were above the waterline. _El Gavilón_ apparently had more powder than the Spaniard on the other side of the _Revenge_. The other ship's shots kept falling short. Teague's gunners and the men of the _Revenge_ continued to make hamburger out of it.

Jack glanced around and had a sudden, frightening thought. "Hector, there's only one ship over there," he pointed in the Enforcer's direction, "And only one over there," he pointed to the _Gavilón_.

"Fire!" Barbossa shouted. "Fire all!" He said to Jack, "So?"

Jack brought his spyglass up the ratline a short way so he could see over the smoke. "Sod it!" he yelled.

"What's the matter?" Barbossa bellowed.

"We have two engaged here, and there're _four_ closing in on the _Empress_!"

"Damnation!" Barbossa swore.

Just then the Spanish ship between the _Revenge_ and the _Enforcer_ evidently decided it had had enough of being ground like sausage meat. It raised a white flag.

They heard Teague's voice booming across the water, telling the captain of the ship in Spanish to "Stay there or die!"

"Down to five!" Barbossa hollered in the comparative silence as the smoke began to clear.

_El Gavilón_ had begun pulling back, tacking a little into the wind.

"Here, what's she doing?" Barbossa asked.

"Bugger," Jack swore. "She's going after the _Empress _as well." He jumped down from his perch back into the deck.

Teague apparently reached the same conclusion at the same time, for he let down the sails on his ship and headed past them to intercept the other warships. "Long live the king!" he shouted as he sailed past.

"What are you all standing around like sheep for?" Barbossa demanded of his crew. "Get after them!

Jack bellowed, "Come on, you heard the man! Go! Go! Go on!"

BOOM! came another thunderous shot from one of the long-nines on the hill overlooking the Cove. They watched the cannonball as it whistled overhead and smashed into the prow of the _Gavilón_. It splintered into the top deck from above, but did not have any other effect.

"Marty, don't waste 'em," Jack muttered. Then he noticed something. "Funny you should mention sheep," he said to Barbossa. The boy came back and reloaded his musket for him.

"What's that?"

"Look where they are!" Jack pointed. "If we could play the wolf an' herd 'em a bit to the south—"

"—We'd have half of them in the shoals before they realized it," Barbossa finished. He strode forward around the deck, ordering his gunners to fire in a specific pattern. In front of them, Teague obviously had the same thought, as his cannons fired front-to-back, one right after the other, forcing the nearest ship to veer hard to port. The sound was nearly deafening.

"Aye, that's the way!" Barbossa shouted encouragement to his men to do the same.

"Come on! Harry them, harry them, harry them!" Jack yelled. He raised the glass to his eye again and laughed. He handed it to Barbossa. "Clever girl. Take a look."

Barbossa looked. "She's no fool, our king," he said, impressed. "She's hiding in plain sight just out of range."

"Aye. If they want to get into range to shoot at her, they'll most likely hit the reef first!" Jack took back the spyglass. "Let's see if we can draw them off her, maybe grind up a few more sausages for the _Enforcer's_ lunch."

Barbossa nodded and gave orders, but Jack frowned as he peered through the spyglass again. _El Gavilón _had outstripped the rest of the Spanish fleet who were being distracted by Teague's Enforcer, and appeared to be heading toward the _Pearl._

"Bog it," he muttered. He slapped Barbossa on the shoulder and thrust the spyglass into his hand.

"New plan, Hector," he said.

"Eh?"

"You and Teague operate the sausage grinder without me. She's going after my _Pearl_!"

"What? No! Jack, you can't—"

It was too late. Jack was over the side in an instant, swimming for all he was worth.

"What kind of an idiot goes for a swim in the midst of a battle?" Barbossa bawled over the side after him. "Serve you right to get blown away, ye slack-jawed fool!"

Feeling better for the insult, as it rankled after a while to be nice to Jack, Barbossa nodded in satisfaction. His hand fell onto the pommel of his sword and he grinned. "Maybe just a tiny bit of supernatural help," he told himself. He used the sword's power to fill the other ships' sails, blowing them toward the shoals. He left them enough room to maneuver around them if they knew the shoals were there, though. It was only sportin' after all.

They ran aground.

Barbossa clucked his tongue in mock sympathy when the first ship ran aground on the shoals. "Aw, didn't know those were there?" he commiserated. "Poor Spaniards." He raised his voice. "They're sitting ducks now, men. And what do ye do with a sitting duck?"

"You blow it out of the water!" called back Scrum, Jack's friend, who was manning a cannon on deck.

"I like your enthusiasm, Mr Scrum!" Barbossa hollered. "Now see it done, man!"

* * *

_Note: Someone PM'ed me about Elizabeth's baby, saying she didn't seem to spend much time with him. That is absolutely true; by modern standards, she doesn't. Infant mortality was much higher back then, and often parents didn't establish much of a bond with their infants until after they were sure the baby was going to live. Elizabeth is probably a lot closer to Jacob than she would have been in real life, because she nurses him herself; historically she would have hired a wet-nurse if she could afford it. Society in general was much more adult-centered than child-centered back then, and children were often an afterthought. I'm sure Elizabeth loves her baby-probably more than the average young mother, because of the circumstances surrounding his birth and infancy-but she has not let the child become her entire raison d'etre. Her attitude is a little more doting than what would be historically accurate. In real life if she could afford it, she would have hired a wet-nurse until the child was weaned, and then a nurse/nanny until the child started school, and then a governess until the child was a teenager, and then a tutor (probably male) until he was fully educated. She would have spent a little time with the child in the evenings, but that's about it._

_Author's opinion: Personally, I wish modern western society were not so child-centric as it is now; I think that sort of mindset leads to adults maintaining childish attitudes and worldviews long after they are legally adults. Not all of them, by any means, but __in my experience it is __a majority. When young people get to be adults, they already should have been prepared to assume the responsibilities of adulthood. Sadly, few parents or schools do this for their children-prepare them for adulthood.  
_


	44. Hell Hath No Fury

When Jack reached the halfway point between the _Revenge_ and the _Pearl_, he paused and trod water for a few moments to catch his breath. In the momentary quiet he heard the grinding sound of a ship tearing open its hull on the hidden reef. Over the water he heard his father shout exultantly, "Down to four!" and he grinned and started swimming again.

The _Empress_ moved to intercept _El Gavilón_ now that Barbossa and Teague only had three ships to worry about. She was no match for a warship the size of the _Gavilón_. She was getting by so far on sheer agility, but Jack could already tell that Elizabeth's luck couldn't hold out much longer.

Neither could his own. In order to reach the _Pearl_, he'd have to pass right between the two ships while they shot at each other.

The _Empress_ had aft cannons and was smaller and lighter. Elizabeth sailed ahead of the _Gavilón_, skipping merrily along just out of reach. The _Gavilón _was in hot pursuit, but it was too big to be agile. It chased the _Empress _all around the entrance to the Cove. Unfortunately, with two of her ships now lost to the reef and run aground on the shoals, Angelica wised up and was avoiding those areas.

The _Empress_, with her aft cannons, could rake the _Gavilón_ often. When she got far enough ahead, she would turn and deliver a broadside before turning tail and running again. The _Gavilón_ wasn't agile enough to turn and return it in time. Elizabeth's broadsides were too light to do a lot of damage, but they were definitely nibbling away at the _Gavilón_.

It was a good strategy. The problem was that all this shooting was going on directly in Jack's path toward the _Pearl_, and he was starting to get tired. He was a strong and efficient swimmer (having none of the extra flailing in the water that he did on land), but the water was rough in the wake of all those warships.

Elizabeth made one last volley and then changed course, trying to lead Angelica away from the _Pearl_. It worked; _El Gavilón_ changed course to follow. As the distance grew, Jack saw a small jolly boat with a single occupant in it, rowing away from _El Gavilón _just as the warship changed course to follow the _Empress_.

He swore. Angelica was rowing herself over to the _Pearl_ while her ship kept Elizabeth occupied and not noticing. He started swimming faster as he neared his ship. He watched as she tied her boat and scurried up the side—"like a rat," he muttered to himself. She was on board a good five minutes before he got close enough to grab the lowest rung of the ladder where he clung, panting, for another few minutes.

When he was rested enough to climb the ladder, he paused close to the top to hold up first one leg and then the other, to empty his boots. Then he climbed up the last few rungs. He stuck his head up to look around before making his presence known.

Angelica was just coming up from below. She paused with her back to Jack, putting her dagger back into her boot. Jack took advantage of the moment to climb up the rest of the way, so when she straightened up and headed toward the captain's cabin, the captain himself cleared his throat quite pointedly at her.

She stopped short. Her head jerked around. Jack was leaning against the ratline with his arms folded.

"Hello, Jack," she greeted.

"Something I can do for you, Angelica?" he asked.

"Die painfully?" she requested sweetly.

Jack snorted. "What are you up to on my ship?"

"Oh, this and that," she said. "I do wonder how you got it out of that bottle, Jack."

"And I wonder how you got off that island," Jack said, "but I'm also wondering what you did with my men down below."

"Oh, they're not hurt. Badly. Yet."

"And what about the island?"

"Are you curious?"

"Aye, and so are you," he said. "So which one of us is going to have our curiosity... satisfied?" Jack infused a healthy amount of innuendo into the last word, knowing it would irritate her.

She didn't disappoint. She drew her sword and approached him. "As I recall, you were always the one who was satisfied," she said.

Jack shrugged and drew his own sword. It wasn't true, but the point wasn't to tell the truth; it was to keep her off-balance and angry.

"Then why should now be any different?" he taunted. "Tell me, who picked you up? And more specifically," he added with a leer, cautiously circling her, "What did you use for coin to barter your way off? Because I don't recall leaving you with any money this time, like I did in Seville." He let his gaze slide suggestively down her body and then back up.

With a growl, she attacked. Jack parried easily, smirking. Reason and swordsmanship had always deserted her when she got angry. "So how'd you get off?" he repeated.

"A ship came. They found me." She made a slash at him.

Jack knocked it aside. "And how'd you pay them? Same way you convinced the king to send half the Spanish navy along with you?"

He lunged. She parried and tried another slash. He ducked and slashed at her legs. She jumped back. He followed, attacking to the right. He remembered that she wasn't as good with cross-body parries.

She had improved with them, and parried his thrust. He got her to back off to one side, though, which was what he had intended. He circled slowly, to get her backing up toward the mast.

"I seduced the first mate of the ship that found me. Convinced him to mutiny. Just like you did."

She aimed a slash at his head and he parried overhand. "Not _just_ like," Jack pointed out, "As my attempt at seducing the first mate of your father's ship was unsuccessful." He gave her a toothy grin. "I tried, but my heart just wasn't in it."

She snarled and attacked again. Lunge, thrust, slash, thrust, slash. Apparently she'd felt insulted by that.

Jack fended off the flurry of blows "And the navy?"

She lowered the tip of her sword for a moment, and Jack followed suit. He didn't need a break quite yet, but he really wanted to know how she'd managed to bring so many war galleons with her.

"My first mate's father is adviser to the Viceroy of Trinidad. I just had to drop a hint about where the pirate lords were hiding in the Caribbean, and His Excellency was more than willing to provide us with ships and crews."

"Aye, but by so doing, you've broken the Code and betrayed us all," Jack told her. "Even if you were to kill me—which you won't, by the way—the others would hunt you down like an animal. They'd not rest until you're dead, Angelica."

She smiled, a slow and feral smile. "I'll take that risk for the pleasure of killing you!" She drew her sword back and made another slash. This one had the power of momentum, but was slow enough for Jack to duck again.

He thrust again, and when she parried, he circled her blade for another attack. She knocked his blade aside. He didn't really want to hurt her, but she was probably counting on that fact. Time to turn the tables.

He lunged again, but followed her blade when she parried so that he got inside her guard. She couldn't reach him with her sword. He pushed her with his body, back past the mast, right up to the outside wall of his cabin.

He grabbed her sword-arm and pinned her wrist to the wall. Her other hand flew up to hit him and he pinned it to the wall with the hilt of his sword. He struck her sword hand hard against the wall once, twice. On the third time, her sword went clattering to the deck.

He leaned right into her face. "What's it going to take to get you off my ship and out of my life forever?" he growled, glaring into her eyes.

She struggled, but couldn't throw him off her. "Death!" she hissed. She tried to head-butt him, but he jerked his head to the left. "Yours!"

She wriggled her left hand out from under his sword-hilt. She jerked up her left knee, trying to get him in the groin. Instinctively, he turned sideways to protect himself. She pushed him off her and pulled a dagger out of her left boot.

Before he regained his balance, she had cut him.

She was too far away to sink it into his flesh, but she managed a glancing blow on his ribs.

He backed away so he could reach her with his sword. She brandished her dagger at him again.

Jack scoffed. "Wot you planning to do with that now, Angelica? I have more reach, and it's not balanced for throwing."

Angelica stopped short and started to smile. She reached up under her hat and withdrew the voodoo doll her father had made to look like Jack. She held it up, waving it back and forth with a mocking smile.

"I don't have to get near you!" she taunted, making little feints at the doll with the dagger.

"Where did you get that?" Jack asked uneasily. "Thought it got thrown into the river in Florida."

"_Sí,_ it did," Angelica replied, setting the tip of the dagger against the doll's chest. "But it came back to me."

"Did it, now? That was incredibly stupid of it," he growled.

Angelica didn't miss the implication, and scowled at him. She poked the doll gently with the dagger and Jack hissed. "You'd better drop your sword, Jack," she said in a sing-song tone. Then her voice got more grim. "Or I'll run you through and you'll die right here without my even touching you!"

She poked the tip of the dagger a bit further in and Jack gasped in pain, the tip of his sword wavering. She tightened her grip and pressed deeper with the dagger. Jack doubled over, groaning, and his sword fell to the deck.

He braced his hands on his knees and stayed bent over; hardly able to breathe.

"Now, then, Jack," Angelica said. "Back against the mast, or I give you another little squeeze!"

"Might've known you'd go for the mast," Jack grumbled. "You're not even original." He shuffled painfully over to the mast, slowly straightened up, and folded his arms.

Angelica gave him a hateful look, and tickled the doll with her dagger again. He gasped. "Hands out, Jack," she said.

He glared at her, unmoving. She shrugged and grabbed the doll's arms, spreading them out to the sides. Jack's arms flew out straight, and Angelica pounced, shackling his right wrist to the mast before he could react.

He grabbed for her with his free hand. She bent the doll's left arm behind its back, and Jack cried out as his own left arm was twisted painfully behind his back.

Suddenly Jack caught a flash of motion from the corner of his eye.

Elizabeth.

He cocked his head at Angelica. "What, no kiss?" he sneered, loud enough for Elizabeth to hear him and know he'd seen her. "Last time a woman chained me to this mast I got a kiss first."

Angelica smiled at him. "The only thing you'll get from me," she said, holding up the doll again, "is this." She rapped the doll's head smartly against the mast, and Jack sagged woozily to the deck, one arm still held up by the manacle.

"Think… I pr'f'rred… the kiss," he slurred, reaching up to rub his forehead.

Angelica held up the doll and tossed it off to the side. It hit the deck and Jack groaned and went limp.

With a triumphant smile, Angelica turned back toward the captain's cabin.


	45. Like a Woman Scorned

Elizabeth hauled herself the rest of the way onto the deck and drew her sword. "Hold it right there, Miss Teach!" she ordered.

The Spanish woman stopped short and whirled around. "Who in God's name are you?" she demanded. Quick as a flash, she swooped down and grabbed up her sword again.

"Ironic you should mentioned God," Elizabeth taunted. "Considering what you've been up to lately, I shouldn't think you'd be this eager to meet Him!"

Angelica circled around slowly, eyes fixed on Elizabeth's. "Who are you? What are you talking about?"

"Me? Oh, I'm just the woman whose village you sacked, and whose baby you tried to kill."

Angelica's eyes took on a hard, mocking expression. "Oh, you must be Jack's whore, then." She made a lightning-fast lunge straight at Elizabeth's heart.

Elizabeth parried, scoffing. "Don't know where you've been getting your information, but whoever it is ought to be ashamed of himself." She stayed in an _en garde_ position and waited to see what Angelica would bring.

"Don't you have a child? And no husband? And isn't the baby Jack's?" Angelica pressed. "Or don't you know who the father is?" She lunged again, this time for the wrist.

Elizabeth used a different parry, starting to get a feel for the other woman's style. "His father is William Turner, my late husband, and the only man I have ever lain with," Elizabeth told her.

She tried a thrust, trying to slide her blade along the other woman's, but Angelica parried and lunged again. Elizabeth parried with _prime,_ which threw Angelica off for a second. Hardly anyone ever used _prime._

"I'm a respectable widow. I am not, nor have I ever been, anybody's whore!" Elizabeth raised her sword with a sweet smile and asked politely, "Can you say the same?"

Angelica snarled and lunged again. Elizabeth parried and lunged. Angelica parried and tried to disengage, but Elizabeth slid her blade along her opponent's blade and nicked her wrist.

Angelica swore and glared at Elizabeth when she saw the blood. Elizabeth smiled. If there was enough blood, it might make Angelica's grip more slippery, and if she could keep her upset she wouldn't fight as well and Elizabeth would stand a better chance of getting herself and Jack out of this.

Having learned from William Turner, Elizabeth was the better swordswoman; unfortunately, but she was still out of practice and her illness had wreaked havoc with her endurance. Angelica on the other hand had the energy of a small child. Luckily, she seemed to have the discipline of one, too. She was easy to rile.

Behind Angelica, Jack rose slowly and silently to his feet. His eyes met Elizabeth's for a split second before she looked back at Angelica and he turned his attention to the shackle on his wrist.

Elizabeth wanted to keep Angelica talking. "So why are you out to kill Jack, anyway?"

Angelica lunged again. "He ruined my life!"

Elizabeth parried and scoffed. "Oh, please. You did a fine job of doing that all by yourself, dear. Stop being such a baby."

Elizabeth lunged again, stomping her foot loudly on the deck. Startled, Angelica lost ground as she parried. Elizabeth used the extra split second to start her slash from much farther back, making it a stronger attack. Teague had taught her that trick—to drive the opponent back first, and then use the extra time for your own blade to gain some momentum when you slash.

Angelica blocked the blow, but it rattled her frame and she fell back again. Having experienced the incredible power of Teague's attacks, Elizabeth could sympathize.

By mutual consent, they both lowered their blades a fraction to rest for a moment. "He seduced me! He took advantage of my innocence!" Angelica wailed.

At that, Elizabeth laughed aloud. "You mean to tell me you had no choice? Jack doesn't force women to his bed and you know it."

"'S right," Jack chimed in from the mast, where he was feeling desperately through his pockets for something. "Proper gentleman I am."

"Shut up, Jack!" exclaimed both women simultaneously.

Elizabeth was getting tired. She would have to end this soon, or else she would start getting sloppy. She fought not only for her own life, but for Jack's. She would _not_ lose!

She attacked with words as she prepared her next attack. "At some point you made the choice to lift your skirts for him, _dear_. Yes, he can be charming. Yes, he's very handsome. But he's not irresistible—" She thrust again for the heart.

Angelica parried, but she was getting angry.

"Oi!" protested Jack, as he abandoned his pockets and started searching through his hair.

Elizabeth thrust for the shoulder as she pressed her point. "—You could have told him 'no' at any time."

Angelica parried the attack. She only used four basic parries, Elizabeth noted, grateful that Will had taught her all eight, and had drilled her and drilled her until they were second nature.

Angelica growled and slashed for the shoulder, but it lacked power. Elizabeth pushed the blade aside easily. Angelica thrust again, and Elizabeth didn't bother parrying. She ducked it and thrust upwards as she did.

Angelica pushed it aside so the blade didn't stab her in the heart—but her shoulder was cut now. She feinted high and slashed low, and pinked Elizabeth on the bottom of her forearm.

Elizabeth really had to end this soon.

They had circled around so that the voodoo doll lay next to Angelica's feet, off to the side where she had tossed it before. Angelica lunged again, and Elizabeth fell back. Angelica stooped to pick up the doll.

Elizabeth cried, "Oh, no you don't!" She ran and knocked Angelica's blade aside, and then kicked her. Hard, in the solar plexus.

Angelica, already bent over and off balance, went over. She landed hard on her behind, but rolled to her feet with the doll in her other hand. She crouched, coughing and gasping, sword-point wavering.

Elizabeth made a swift underhand cut to Angelica's wrist, and the doll went arcing through the air in a high parabola.

Jack yelled in fright.

Elizabeth yanked the doll out of the air, and Jack abruptly stopped yelling. Not knowing what else to do with it, she shoved the doll down her shirt.

Jack shut his eyes in relief, and then as the sweet scent of Elizabeth's skin rose around him, he inhaled deeply, grinned, and opened his eyes. He started patting down his pockets with renewed determination.

Angelica started to recover. "That wasn't nice," she scolded Elizabeth. "You been hanging around Jack too long."

She attacked again, a weak thrust that Elizabeth parried with _quarte,_ then a slash from the side aimed at the ribs.

"It sounds to me," Elizabeth said, panting, "that you just don't want to take responsibility for your own actions and are blaming them all on someone else. Know what that makes you, Miss Teach?"

Elizabeth attacked high, an overhead chop to the head—hard to parry with the basic four. Angelica ducked and just barely parried, clumsily

Angelica growled. She whirled around and responded with her classic riposte—the one that Jack had told her no one else on earth knew.

Elizabeth knew it, and parried with _octave_. She doubted Angelica had ever even seen _octave_ before.

For just an instant, Angelica glanced over at Jack, looking utterly betrayed as she realized that he must have taught Elizabeth how to counter her signature move.

Elizabeth took advantage of Angelica's inattention and attacked again. She got her off balance, punctuating her words with strikes as she advanced and Angelica retreated.

"That makes you a spoiled—"

Clang!

"—Little—"

Clash!

"—Child!"

Angelica parried again and the two of them ended up in a blade-lock, face to face.

Faster than Angelica could blink, Elizabeth disengaged, pulled back, and smashed Angelica in the face with the hilt of her sword.

Angelica cried out and went down.

Elizabeth lunged forward again—her front foot landed on Angelica's sword-wrist, and the tip of her sword was at Angelica's throat.

"Darling, that was ab-so-lute-ly gorgeous," Jack remarked as re-attached the manacle key to his lock of hair he'd got it from. He sauntered over. "Well done, love. Almost hated to see it end."

"Jack!" Angelica looked to him, face streaming with blood and tears. "Help me. She'll kill me!"

Jack picked up his sword and stalked over to them. Elizabeth never budged or changed expression, keeping the point of her sword firmly at Angelica's throat.

Jack pointed his sword straight at Elizabeth.

Angelica looked up at Elizabeth with a smug smile on her bloody face.

* * *

_Note: This chapter borrows elements of the dueling scene from Robert A. Heinlein's Glory Road. I doubt that dueling with cutlasses would be very much like the classic fencing portrayed in that story, but on the other hand Will Turner is widely accepted to be the best swordsman in the whole "Pirates" series, and he's the one who taught Elizabeth "how to handle a sword." It is not outside the realm of possibility that he would have taught her classic fencing with all eight parries-only adapted for cutlass use. Most fencers only use four to six of the eight parries; hardly anyone uses _prime_ or _octave_ unless they're showing off. Angelica would probably only be trained in the most common ones, and would be thrown off by Elizabeth's mastery of all eight._

_If anyone is interested, check out the youtube video by "Flaze3" called "The Eight Fencing Parries." Flaze3 is not a professional and the video quality is not great, but I found that his more exaggerated motions were easier to study than the more subtle parry-demonstrations of the pros. Not being a fencer, I couldn't tell the difference in some of the more polished videos between one parry and another. However, Flaze3 makes more pronounced movements, which would probably be more appropriate for cutlass work anyway!_

_I originally forgot to mention that I borrowed one idea in this story, Elizabeth and Angelica fighting over the doll, and then Elizabeth shoving it down her shirt, from Geekmama's adorable oneshot called "Distressing Damsels." Look for it if you haven't seen it yet; it's adorable! There aren't that many Angelica-meets-Elizabeth stories out there, so make sure you don't miss that one.  
_


	46. The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

With a grin, Jack brought his sword down suddenly to hold at Angelica's throat alongside Elizabeth's. Angelica's jaw dropped in shock. Elizabeth did not change expression.

"Mast?" he asked Elizabeth.

"Mast. Get up, Miss Teach," Elizabeth ordered.

Angelica hesitated, looking at Jack in shocked disbelief at his betrayal.

He put a little more pressure on her throat. "I believe you heard the lady, Angelica. Move. Now."

Angelica moved. They brought her over to the mast and backed her up to it, stretching her arms around it behind her and shackling her hands on the other side of the mast. Jack brought out some rope and tied it around her wrists, both above and below the manacle. Angelica glared daggers and spat blood at him. He wiped it off and turned away, ignoring her.

"What's with the rope?" Elizabeth asked, still panting.

"When you killed me, I was able to slip out of the manacle, and her hands are smaller than mine," he explained. "It'll be harder for her to do if she's tied above and below them as well.

"She—she killed you?" Angelica asked, sounding horrified.

Jack whirled to face her. "As I'm perfectly aware that your horror at the thought is only due to the idea of someone else getting to kill me before you do, let me just say that she succeeded on her first try, unlike you with your multiple ineffectual attempts. Also unlike you, with your filthy little black heart, she was actually capable of feeling remorse, and she came and got me back out from Davy Jones' locker. For which I thank you, by the way," he said, nodding to Elizabeth with his palms pressed together.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at his actions, but said only, "I'm sorry I made it necessary."

He grinned. "'Tisn't what you told me at the time."

Elizabeth laughed a little, blushing. "Yes, well, perhaps there was one aspect of that incident that I didn't regret."

Jack chuckled. "Always flirting with danger, you are."

Elizabeth huffed out a breathless laugh and stepped back to lay her sword across one of the barrels on deck. "God in heaven, that took it out of me," she muttered. She looked at Jack, who was chafing his wrist where the manacle had been, and shaking his head as if he was still dizzy. "Are you all right?" she asked him. "You're bleeding." She pointed to his ribs, where Angelica had cut him with her dagger.

He nodded, feeling the back of his head gingerly. "It's just a scratch. No permanent damage, I think. How about you, love?" he came closer and perched one hip on a barrel next to her.

"I'll do. Just tired. That _Gavilón_ led us a merry chase, trying to distract me from the _Pearl_. Her first mate is an absolute fiend!"

Angelica let out a mocking laugh, her teeth lined with blood. "_Sí._ Gorge is _my_ whore, as you put it. He will be back for me!"

Elizabeth chuckled grimly. "It may be a while, Miss Teach. Between my _Empress_ and Teague's _Enforcer_, he may have more important things on his mind than you."

Jack gave a cynical smile. "No doubt. Keep a sword on her, love, while I see what she's done with my men."

She picked it up and pointed it at Angelica while Jack ran for the hatchway.

Angelica glared at Elizabeth. "He does not love you, you know!"

Elizabeth did not answer. She held the sword still, pointing steadily at Angelica. Jack reappeared in the hatchway. He climbed up on deck, watching them.

"He still wants me. He told me so."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she still didn't speak. It was one thing when they were fighting; her words had been calculated to anger Angelica and make her lose her concentration, and it had worked brilliantly.

Now Angelica was a defeated foe. Elizabeth wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of engaging her in a verbal dual after she'd already beaten her in a literal one.

"Now, now, Angelica. Mustn't tell falsehoods. You're in enough trouble with the Lord already," Jack said. He stalked over to her, tugging at something on his left wrist. He held it up in front of her eyes. "Here, maybe this'll remind you not to speak out of turn."

"My lace!" she said. With a catlike smile, made ghastly by the blood in her teeth, she asked him, "You really gonna part with it, Jack?"

"Thought of a better use for it," he said. He shoved it into her mouth and tied it behind her head while she glared at him.

"Now, shut it!" he ordered her. "All right, love?" he asked Elizabeth.

"No problems here, Jack. Are Gibbs and Cotton all right?"

"I'm just fine, Mrs Turner," answered Gibbs, who was right behind Jack. "Just a little bump on the head. Cotton got a nasty knock, though. Jack sent him to bed."

Jack ran up the stairs to the quarter-deck, shading his eyes to try and see how the rest of the battle was going. _El Gavilón_ was still engaged with the _Empress_, but Teague's _Enforcer_ was steadily making its way closer to lend assistance. Meanwhile, Barbossa hammered away at the warships stuck on the shoals. There was nothing for any of the on board the _Pearl_ to do, and no way to get to the other ships at present anyway.

"What was she doing here, anyway?" Elizabeth asked Gibbs.

"She'd planned to knock us out and then burn the ship to a cinder," Gibbs growled. "With us and your treasure still on it! She was just going up to Jack's cabin to save his compass when he stopped her."

"Mr Gibbs!" Jack said, bounding back down the stairs to the main deck.

"Captain?"

"Signal the others that we have Angelica. The rest of her little armada ought to be giving up soon. Thought I heard Barbossa's dulcet tones yelling 'Down to two!' a little while back."

"You did," Elizabeth told him. "That was when I rowed over."

Jack nodded acknowledgement, and waited until Gibbs had signaled before continuing. "Gibbs, I need to talk with Captain Swann for a moment. Be so kind as to keep a pistol trained on this _venomous… little… __**viper**_—" He leaned in close to Angelica, spitting out the words right into her face, "—while the two of us have a private word, eh?"

"Gladly, Captain," Gibbs said grimly.

"And do feel free to drill her if she moves."

"I've never been happier to obey, sir," Gibbs replied, rubbing his bruised forehead. "Like to see her try to burn our ship _now,_ so I would!" He took out his pistol with a dark glance at Angelica, and cocked it. "Go ahead," Gibbs urged her eagerly. "Move."

Angelica stood still, arms pulled behind her by the shackles, a glower marring her face while she bared her bloody teeth around the lace gag.

* * *

_Note: No, of course Jack wouldn't have taken Angelica's side against Elizabeth! He just wanted to psych her out because he was so peeved with her over that voodoo doll trick. It just happened to occur at a good chapter break. Honest!_


	47. and Pirates

Jack jerked his head toward the bow of the ship, and he and Elizabeth went up to the foc's'le to talk.

"I notice you had no trouble finding me," he said.

"'Twasn't difficult," she replied with a smile. "I just looked for trouble, and there you were in the thick of it."

He gave her a half-smile. "You should talk, trying to take on five Spanish warships in your delicate little junk!"

"And yet I still managed to come find you afterwards, just as you requested."

"Aye. Although 'm not sure this counts as 'afterwards,' but there doesn't seem to be anything we can do for the rest of 'em at the moment."

"So shall we have that talk we mentioned?"

"'S good a time as any."

"What do you want to know?"

"What you meant by it. The kissing an' all. You've been a faithful wife to an absent spouse for the last two years. You've made it very plain that you were a one-man woman, and I wasn't that man. You've spurned every one of my advances since the day we met. What's changed?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," she said. "Finding out that I'm single certainly changed a lot of things."

"Aye, but even after you found out that you and Will weren't married, you still didn't make a wild leap for Jack."

"Actually, I did, and you turned me down as I recall."

"Because you still wanted Will!"

"And you still want Angelica!" Elizabeth shot back. "Do you deny that you still have feelings for her?"

Jack frowned. "This conversation needs rum," he said. He left for a moment and came back holding Gibbs' flask.

"It doesn't matter whether I still feel anything for her or not," he said, uncorking the flask and taking a brief swig. "She's nothing but a rabid, vicious little cur. I'm more interested in finding out _your_ feelings for _me_, love, as they seem to be changing daily."

Elizabeth looked away from the challenge in his eyes. This would have been so much easier if they'd had time to talk about it earlier, when she could still taste Jack on her tongue, and when his dark eyes had looked at her with that soft, open expression. It would have so much easier to tell him _then_ that she was falling in love with him.

Now, all she could think about was Angelica's boast about Jack's saying he still wanted _her_, and Jack's history of having a girl in every port (and two in some), and even Jack's own story of his "excessively carnal exchanges" with Angelica when they had first met. Was she insane? Elizabeth wondered about herself.

Her noble intentions, of being the one to risk her heart on him and saving him the risk of confessing his feelings to her first, now dissolved, and she looked at his faintly wary expression and got scared.

"I care about you a great deal, of course," she dissembled. "You're my best friend. You've saved my life over and over. You sacrificed immortality for Will's sake. You rescued me and Jacob from Flimwell. You've worked with me for weeks to find and beat our attacker—even when I think you may still have feelings for her."

Jack's frown deepened. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to get to the point.

"I guess I just have to know _why_," she said. "Why do you do all this for me, Jack?"

"What do you want to hear, Elizabeth?" he asked, tipping up the flask again. His voice took on a cynical edge as he continued, "I doubt you'd want the truth, so tell me what you want to hear. You know I _always_ do as you ask. Tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it, love."

She said nothing, but reached for the flask. He let her have it.

"Do you want to hear how much I wish little Jake were my son instead of Will's? Do you want to hear that sometimes in the dusk between waking and sleeping, I remember the taste of your mouth, how sweet and passionate it was when you kissed me? That when I'm alone in my cabin sometimes, I close my eyes to relive the feel of your body pressing mine up against the mast? Do you want to hear how much I wish you had chosen me instead of Will? Do you want to hear that your kissing me this morning was like one of my dreams about you coming true?

"Do you want to hear how much I wish I were a better man for you?"

His eyes were dark and intense; Elizabeth felt pinned by his gaze like a butterfly. Gone were his expansive gestures, his flamboyant mannerisms.

"Do you want me to tell you how much I love you, 'Lizabeth?" he whispered.

She stared at him, open-mouthed, with tears welling up in her eyes.

His face hardened. "Or would you rather hear some piratical motivation for all of it? Tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."

"The truth, Jack. I want you to tell me the truth!" she choked.

He pushed himself off the rail and headed back towards the stern, only stopping once to look over his shoulder at her and say, "I just did," before descending again to the main deck.

She stared after him, stunned at Jack's intensity, so different from his usual light banter and devil-may-care attitude. Had he really felt that way all this time?

She wiped her eyes and sought him out on the main deck behind the quarter-deck stairs, leaning on the gunwale. She passed Gibbs, still in a glaring contest with Angelica as he trained his unwavering musket on her.

Elizabeth went over to Jack and leaned on the gunwale next to him. Her shoulder nudged his shoulder. She didn't look at him, nor he at her, but they both looked straight ahead at the cloud of smoke and the other ships who were finishing up the battle.

"Did you know that every time I held your compass for more than a few seconds, it pointed straight at you?" she asked him in a conversational tone.

She felt him huff out a tiny laugh. "Wish I'd known that then," he murmured.

"You'd have been insufferable, and I was already angry enough about it," she said.

He gently bumped her shoulder back. "I do enjoy making you angry."

Elizabeth sighed. "And you have a rare talent for it. You really are dreadful sometimes."

He moved his hand over on the rail so that his pinky barely brushed hers. "I know," he said. "But you love me that way and you know it."

She sighed again. Her heart was pounding, but she kept a cool exterior. "It's true," she said, moving her pinky so that it covered his. "I do."

From the corner of her eye she saw Jack slowly turn his head to look at her.

"Elizabeth?" he asked softly. "You mean that, darling?"

She looked at him and smiled.

"Because if you're just playing with me, love, I'm going to resurrect that kraken and feed you to it," he went on pleasantly.

Elizabeth reached up and stroked his face, from the expressive black brows, down his fine, straight nose to his slightly parted lips. She stroked them gently with her fingertips, feeling his breath come faster.

"What do you want to hear, Jack?" she whispered. "Do you want to hear that I wake up sometimes, trembling at the memory of that kiss over there?" She pointed at the mast. "That I can still recall the feel of your mouth, the taste of your skin? Do you want me to tell you how important you have become to me, that your midnight visits were sometimes the only thing I had to look forward to? Do you want to hear about how badly my heart aches at the thought of you still wanting Angelica? Do you want to hear that when you kissed me this morning it felt like I was finally home? "

"Elizabeth. The truth, love. Is that the truth?" he demanded.

She nodded slowly, eyes never leaving his. "I'm not playing with you, Jack. Never about this, I promise."

His eyes closed and he sighed and leaned into her caress like a cat. His hands went to her waist and pulled her closer. She touched his lips again with a feather-light fingertip.

"Jack?" she whispered.

"Mmm?" His eyes were still closed.

"If I promise you no shackles and no sea monsters... will you kiss me again?"

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. That soft warmth in his eyes was back. "Gladly."

She waited.

So did he.

"Well?" she said.

"Promise first," he demanded with a smirk.

Elizabeth grinned, took a step closer and opened her mouth to speak. Then she noticed something behind him and her smile melted away. "Oh, no," she said. "_El Gavilón's_ back."

"Damn, she was right. Gibbs, get me a pistol!" he called, turning his head to call to his first mate.


	48. Gang Aft Agley

The next few events seemed to happen all at once. Elizabeth screamed. "No! Jack!" She shoved Jack hard. He went down and cracked his head on the deck when he landed. There was the sound of a bullet hitting flesh, a grunt of agony, the thud of a body hitting the deck. The crack of a musket from behind him, and then Angelica screaming in rage and swearing in muffled Spanish.

It took a few seconds for Jack's dizziness to wear off so he could sit up and look around. He saw the first mate of the _Gavilón_ stagger and fall down dead. He turned his head and saw Gibbs lowering the musket from his shoulder as he stared behind Jack in shocked panic.

Jack spun around and saw her. Elizabeth. She'd shoved him aside and taken the shot for him. If there's one thing a pirate is always good at, it's recognizing when a wound is mortal. She lay in a rapidly-widening pool of blood on the deck of his Pearl.

Elizabeth, shot. Bloody.

Dying.


	49. The Flying Dutchman

Horror suffused Jack's being. He threw himself at Elizabeth, heedless of the pool of blood. He picked her up, cradling her head and shoulders in his arms. He tore his bandana off his head and pressed it against the bleeding wound on her chest. It reddened and soaked through in an instant.

"What did you do, love?" he asked softly, eyes filling with tears. "I told you not to do anything stupid, and now you've gone and got yourself killed for me."

Elizabeth opened her eyes halfway, giving her face an incongruously seductive expression. "Saved you... We're even... almost."

"Almost?" Jack asked, stroking her cheek and hair with desperate fingers.

"Aye," she whispered. "Have to kiss me first."

Heedless of who was watching, heedless of the battle now raging between Angelica's flagship and the _Empress_, Jack let out a single sob and did as she requested. It was a kiss full of blood, salt, slime, tongues, and despair. He felt Elizabeth's hand grab convulsively at his hair. He let his tears fall unabashedly on her face.

"'Lizabeth," he moaned when she fell away from the kiss. "Lizzie, love, no!"

"Now... we... 're... even," she said with satisfaction. "Took your life... before. Give... it back... to you... now."

"Elizabeth!" Jack cried, clutching her against him. "You don't understand, darling. I don't want it without you!" He pressed his lips against her face in fervent, desperate kisses.

He felt her feather-light touch on his face before her hand fell away. There was a whisper of sound and he leaned in close to hear her say, "Love... you... my Jack." Then her last breath rattled out of her body and she went limp in his arms.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips once more against her forehead, already beginning to cool against his mouth, and then rested his naked forehead against hers.

"_'Your_ Jack'?" he repeated in a whisper. Then, louder. "_'Your Jack'_, is it, Liz?" He sat up and smoothed her hair back, saw her lifeless eyes staring up into the Caribbean sun, and closed them for her. "I'll tell you this, my girl. This is not over. Do you hear me? If you think that 'your Jack' is going to just stand by and let this happen, you have another think coming."

He gently lay her down on the deck and unfolded his blood-soaked bandana to cover her face. He slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off her still, sanguineous form before him on the deck.

Jack heard Gibbs' cautious step as he approached from behind him. Then, "Jack?" Gibbs said hesitantly.

Jack heard him, heard the mighty rush of water that was the sound of the _Dutchman_ surfacing. He wiped his face and turned to Gibbs.

"If I don't make it back, have Teague send her aunt and the baby to my family in England," he told his old friend. "Oh, and the _Isla Muerta_ treasure has been released by the sea. It'll be yours, along with the _Black Pearl_, if you don't see me alive again. Just leave the Aztec coins alone, savvy?"

"Aye, but Jack—" Gibbs stopped short, and his eyes widened in shock as Elizabeth's body disappeared from the deck.

They both stared at the empty pool of blood for a moment.

Gibbs shook his head and went on. "Where are you going?"

"With her," Jack told him. In a rare moment of affection, he gave the older man a smile and a clap on the back that was almost a hug. "Thanks, Gibbs," he said, handing him the compass.

"For what?"

"Oh, you know. All of it." Jack said with an expansive gesture. "Good luck, mate." He looked across the water at the _Dutchman_, and saw Elizabeth's grayish form beginning to materialize on its deck.

"I gotta go," Jack said. He sprinted across the deck and dove over the gunwale, striking out for the Dutchman.

On the _Pearl_, Gibbs watched Jack swim over with his usual economy of movement when he was in the water. He shook his head. "Trust Jack Sparrow to finally fall in love just as the lady lies dying," he muttered to himself. He raised his voice and called, "Good luck, Jack!"

* * *

_Note: A quick lesson about Jack's phrase "If you think that 'your Jack' is going to just stand by and let this happen, you have another think coming." I see people making an error with this expression all the time by saying "...another _thing_ coming."  
_

_ If you think something and it's wrong, then you have another think coming. Not another thing coming. It's a logical progression of thought-first you think one thing, then you think a different one. You can't thing a thought, so make sure none of my devoted readers ever make that mistake again. :)_

_Oh, and about the plot: well, things may get worse before they get better. Sorry. But don't stop reading!_


	50. Bargaining With Charon

Elizabeth slowly returned to consciousness, her hearing returning before her eyesight did. She heard someone calling her name, and she tried in vain to open her eyes.

"Jack?" she tried to say. Nothing came out but a muffled creak.

"Elizabeth!" she heard again. The voice sounded familiar. "It's all right, don't be afraid. It's all over now."

She swallowed, licked her lips, and tried again. "Jack?" she said, finally managing to open her eyes. She could see nothing but a pale blur above her and feel nothing but a hard wooden deck beneath her. She couldn't even feel her gunshot wound at all.

"You're all right now, Elizabeth," said the blur, and she realized it was a man's face, slowly coming into focus.

"Jack?" she repeated, and then as the edges of her vision sharpened, she realized who it was. "Will!"

"Hello, Elizabeth," he said with a sad smile.

"Will!" she cried. "Where is Jack? Is he all right? Is he here?" She grabbed his arm.

Will frowned. "No, he's not here, Elizabeth."

Where am I? she wondered. As if reading her thoughts, Will told her, "You're on the _Flying Dutchman_."

"You mean I'm... Will, am I dead?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes full of compassion. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth.

"Wait. I'm on the ship of the dead, and Jack's not here?" Elizabeth started to smile. "He lived? He's all right?"

"So it would seem," Will said, frowning a litt.e "But Elizabeth, you're dead."

She waved away his worry. "Yes, but Jack's all right." She sighed in relief.

"You don't care that you're dead?" he asked, eyebrows climbing high.

"Just as long as that murderous Spaniard didn't shoot Jack!" She glanced around curiously. The _Flying Dutchman _looked different from the last time she had been there. The sails were plain white cotton now, and the spiky protrusions were gone from the gunwales.

"Ah, no," Will said. "I think Jack—or someone—must have shot him, in fact. I picked him up a few minutes ago."

"Good!" Elizabeth said with her teeth bared. "So what's happening?" She tried to peer through the smoke that wreathed the ship of the dead—or was it mist?—but she couldn't see the _Pearl_ from this angle. In the distance she could see Teague's _Enforcer_ already sailing toward _El Gavilon_, guns blazing. Further on, the last Spanish ship was giving up the fight. Barbossa stayed behind to board her.

"Think we've won, actually," came Jack's voice from the side of the ship as he hauled himself up onto the deck, "No thanks to your diving in front of me like a damned fool!"

He nodded to Will. "Hello, William. Permission to come aboard?" he asked, striding across the deck.

"Granted," came Will's ironically belated reply.

Jack strode towards Elizabeth. She called his name and ran to him, meeting him halfway. She wasn't sure whether he was planning to embrace her or give her a good shake. He settled for grabbing her shoulders in a pincer-like grip. "I could bleedin' kill you, 'Lizabeth! What the _hell_ did you think you were doing, taking that shot for me?"

"Saving your life!"

He pulled her close and growled into her neck. "I told you not to do anything stupid, and now you've gone and orphaned your son! My life wasn't worth yours, darling. Not in a hundred years." He stepped back and held her at arms' length again, and gave her a little shake.

"I couldn't let you die!" she protested.

"Aye, but it's a bad bargain, and I'm not letting you make it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not leaving you, love. 'Whither thou goest' and all."

"What are you talking about? You can't stay here! I was hoping you would look after Jacob for me."

He shook his head. "Sorry, love. Can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not leaving you, and I'm bloody well not letting you leave me either."

"Jack, I died," Elizabeth told him baldly. "Will just told me. I'm _dead_."

He nodded. "And I will be too, when the _Dutchman_ submerges again. I'll just save Captain Turner the trouble of having to come pick me up."

"Jack, don't be an idiot! Go back to your life, and look after my son for me!"

He shook his head. "Not going to happen, Liz. Where you go, I go. 'S the way it is."

"Jack," Will interjected. "You're in good health. You have years ahead of you. You can't be on this ship!"

"And yet, here I am."

"You have a life waiting for you." Will tried to get him to see reason. "It's suicide if you stay."

"And yet, here I am," Jack repeated patiently.

"And who's going to raise my son?" Elizabeth demanded.

Jack shrugged. "Not my problem. You should've thought of that before you dove in front of that bullet, darling."

Will frowned. "Jack—"

"Sorry, William," Jack said with a shrug. "That's the deal. You take her, you take both of us. Package deal. Unfortunately, this leaves little Jake an orphan, all alone in the world. Completely at the mercy of vicious, bloodthirsty pirates like Sumbajee and Villeneuva. Pirates that make Barbossa look kind and gentle. You willing to just abandon your sweet little baby son to a world like that, Will?"

"Jack…"

Jack nonchalantly reached out and tucked a bit of Elizabeth's hair behind her ear. "Of course," he continued casually, "You could just heal her and send us both back. Alive. That way, your son still has a mother, my father still has a son, and you still have a way to connect with the land of the living. Might help you remember your humanity a bit better, if you could still visit with your friends and family from time to time, eh?"

He turned to Will and his voice lost its light, bantering tone. "Or do you want the only time you get to see your son to be after he's dead?"

Will winced.

Elizabeth watched them both, gaze darting from one to the other. There were undercurrents here. What was Jack trying to do? It sounded as if he was trying to bargain for her life by using her child as leverage. She opened her mouth, but Jack silenced her with a warning look and waited for Will's reply.

"Jack… I can't," Will said. "If I could, I would in a heartbeat—as it were—but I have no power over life. Only over death."

"Then you'll have to take us both," Jack told him.

"There's no need for you to sacrifice yourself, Jack," Will tried to explain. "It won't gain you anything. Don't you understand? There's nothing I can do!"

"Calypso brought back Barbossa."

"I'm not Calypso! I'm just the ferryman! Charon, if you like."

"We'll ask Calypso to do it, then."

"Are you sure?" Will pressed. "Her favors are awfully expensive!"

Jack gave him a knowing smile. "I'm not asking for her _favors_, Will—it seems _you_ got those already. I'm asking for Elizabeth's life back. Shouldn't be that tough for a goddess."

"Fine, then," Will said. "I'll call her." He leaned over the edge of the ship and dropped something into the water that might have been a pebble.

While they were waiting for the goddess to manifest herself, Jack drew Elizabeth off to one side. He put his arms around her and leaned in to kiss her, but at the first touch of her lips he recoiled and grimaced.

"Sorry, love," he said. "Can't do it."

She looked puzzled for a moment, and then realized what the problem was. "Oh! Dead and clammy, right?"

He nodded, wrinkling his nose. "Dead and clammy."

"Right. Sorry. I remember from when I met with Will," she said with a sympathetic smile. "It just feels wrong and bizarre, doesn't it?"

Jack nodded, relieved that she understood. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and he idly stroked her hair while they waited for Calypso.


	51. The Keeper and Charon's Lady

While they were thus occupied, Captain Teague had left his crew on the _Enforcer_ to finish dealing with the crew of _El Gavilon_. Teague rowed over to the _Dutchman_, tied up his jolly boat and hauled himself up on deck. He stood up to his full height and glanced around, catching Will's eye.

"So you're William Turner, eh?" He did not ask for permission to board.*

Will eyed him coolly. "And you are…?"

"Teague. Keeper of the Code."

"You look familiar, Mr. Teague."

"_Captain_ Teague, boy," Teague corrected.

Will's lips curled up just a little. "Ah, I think I know who you are now. Striking resemblance. So what can I do for you, _Captain_ Teague?"

"Captain Swann took a bullet for my son, and died. You can give her back to us."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain."

Teague became, if possible even more menacing in his demeanor. "Oh?" he growled.

Not even Will was proof against Teague's intimidation. Will held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You don't understand, sir. I would if I could, because—" he glanced behind him, and Teague noticed for the first time that Jack was there with Elizabeth. They were quite wrapped up in each other; Elizabeth clung to him, face nestled into Jack's neck, and he was holding her, stroking her hair, and whispering to her. Teague had never seen his son look at a woman that way before.

"—Because it seems she was very much loved," Will finished with a touch of irony. "But I don't have any power over life, just death."

"What if I offered you an exchange?" Teague asked. He'd lived a long life, after all.

Will shook his head. "If you died for her this minute, then I'd just have two souls to ferry across instead of one. I can't bring people back to life."

"But I can," came Calypso's lilting, heavily accented voice as she materialized on the deck.

Will greeted her with a relieved smile, and Teague swept off his hat and bowed deeply.

"M'lady," he greeted.

Calypso smiled and went to him, placing a hand gently on his weathered cheek. "Edward Robert Teague," she said. "It has been a long time, my frien'."

"Aye, that it has. I've missed you, m'lady."

"As I miss you as well. Now, what you want to ask me, Edward?"

"For Miss Swann's life back, m'lady."

"For whose sake you askin', Edward?"

"For the sake of my son, her son, her aunt, and myself," he said. "And for all the pirates from the Cove."

"You know I care nuttin' for de pirates dere," she said. "Dey be de ones who boun' me in de firs' place.

"Aye, I remember, m'lady," Teague admitted. "But don't ye forget about the generations of pirates and sailors who have loved ye, served ye, lived for ye and died for ye. None of them was responsible for binding ye, m'lady. All's we're asking for is our king back alive."

* * *

* _Note: By not asking permission to board, Teague was either making a grievous insult to Will, or was showing that he considered the Dutchman to be an enemy vessel that he was boarding by force, as if he was taking the ship. I leave it up to the reader to decide which one it was._


	52. A Life for a Life

Jack had noticed by now that Calypso was on board. He squeezed Elizabeth's hand to warn her to stay out of it, and then came over to Calypso.

"While you're rememberin' all that, your goddessness," Jack said, "Here's something else for you to keep in mind. If Elizabeth stays dead, she's likely to stay right here to serve on the _Dutchman._ She was once married to your ferryman. D'ye think you want her around, mooning over Will all the time, day and night, knowing that they've loved each other for far longer than he has loved you… _if_ he does? I would think you'd want to send her trotting right back to land, alive, and out of Will's—I mean, harm's way!"

Elizabeth had turned her back and was gazing out to sea.

Calypso glanced at Will, who was watching Elizabeth wistfully.

"You make a good point," the goddess admitted. "You bot' do. Yes, I can do dat."

"There, now, you see?" Jack said, beaming. He raised his voice. "See, Will? She'll do it! I just knew if I appealed to her… sense of…" Too late, he realized that what he had appealed to was her sense of jealousy—not her better nature—and that he'd better shut his mouth. "Her sense of loyalty," he finished, congratulating himself inwardly on his save, "then she'd agree! Well, let's get to it, shall we? Liven her up, Tia!"

"Do not forget about my payment, Jack," Calypso reminded him.

"So what is it?" Jack asked Calypso. "What is required to bring Elizabeth back to life?"

"A sacrifice," Calypso told him, "And a choice."

"Whose choice?"

"Yours."

"What do I choose?"

"Who makes the sacrifice."

Of course. A life for a life.

"Why me?" he asked her, trying to stall for time.

"I be curious to see who you choose," she said.

"Tia, I'm not sure I can do this," Jack admitted.

"You want _me_ to do de choosin'?" she asked sharply.

"No! No, I—I'll do it. I'll choose. I just need a minute." His gaze darted around the ship. Will, Tia Dalma, Elizabeth, Teague—they all stood silently watching.

Elizabeth turned back around and shook her head slowly. "Just let me go," she whispered.

Jack caught her gaze and held it for a long moment.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Teague stepped forward. "I'll do it," he said in his raspy voice.

"What? Dad, no," Jack protested. He looked at Calypso. "No! Not him."

"Don't be a fool, Jacky. If the goddess needs someone's life to save your lady, let her take mine. I've had a good life. I've been away from the sea too long as it is."

Calypso smiled at Teague, and then looked at Jack. "Is dat your choice?"

Jack scowled. "No, it is _not._ You're not taking my father."

"Who, den?"

"I'm thinking!" A bit of motion across the cove caught his eye, where Gibbs and Cotton were unbinding Angelica from the mast of the _Pearl_ and taking her down to the brig. "Don't suppose you could take her instead?" he asked, pointing.

"Who, de daughter of Blackbeard? If you still loved her I could. But de choice must be someone dat it will be a sacrifice for you to lose. Losin' her not bothah you at all."

"What?" Jack said artlessly. "I'm still very… fond of Angelica. Really, I am! Didn't I tell her I loved her, when we parted before?"

Calypso laughed. "Fo' a pirate, you a bad liar, Jack! No, you didn't say you love her. You tol' her dat you love _you_. She t'ink you mean somet'ing else, but I hear what you really say."

"Since when did you become a grammarian?" Jack grumbled. "You don't exactly speak the king's English!"

Calypso shrugged. "Choose your sacrifice, or I choose de sacrifice fo' you. An' you maybe not like who I choose. You know de sea not picky—maybe I pick yo' fadah, maybe I pick de Turnah child—"

"NO!" Jack cut her off. "I'll choose, all right? Although I really have to wonder at you, Calypso."

"'Calypso'?" she asked. "Not Tia Dalma?"

Jack gave her a hard look. "I called you Tia Dalma when you were human, and we were friends. I'm thinking when you got your goddess-powers back, you maybe forgot what it felt like to be human, what _made_ you human. Compassion, for instance."

He cocked his head and scoffed, "You don't need a sacrifice in order to bring someone back to life, and you know it—you brought Barbossa back on a whim. You're only doing this now because you want to see what I'll do. You're just playing with us, with me. It's not like you _care _anymore.

"So—fine. I'll dance to your tune. I'll choose my favorite person in the whole world aside from Elizabeth. I hope that will be enough of a sacrifice for you?"

"Who be yo' choice?"

Jack took a deep breath and faced her squarely. Once again he felt that sense of being part of something larger than himself, of rising above his limitations. Elizabeth's belief in his goodness really did make him a better man. He knew what he had to do. "I choose… me."

Calypso gave him a narrow, slant-eyed look.

"You said it yourself, that I love me! You know it's true!" Jack pleaded.

Calypso considered it for a moment and then nodded her acceptance.


	53. Goodbye

_Note: My apologies for those who are following this story as it gets uploaded. I have been away, 3000 miles from home, and did not have reliable access to the internet. I really didn't mean to leave my lovely readers with all this death hanging over our characters' heads! However, I am uploading this chapter from the airport on my way home, so look for another chapter late tomorrow. And keep reading; all is not lost._

* * *

Teague's groan of regret was drowned out by Elizabeth's cry of "Jack? No!" She rushed forward and grabbed his arm. "Don't do this! This isn't what I wanted!"

"Aye, I know," he admitted. "But think of your little boy. Your Auntie. Oh, give her my love, will you? And her jewelry. It's all in my cabin on the Pearl."

"What about us being together?" she asked. "You demanded it of Will, remember?"

Jack covered her hand with his. "No way to do that without a sacrifice, and whom would you have me choose, love? Teague? Little Jake?" He shook his head. "No, this is the best way. He needs you. Your aunt needs you. The Cove needs its king."

"But what about you?" she said quietly.

His face softened. "I need you, too, but I can get along without you until you join me. Just don't rush it, eh?" He brushed a lock of hair out of her face for her, and then went over to Teague. They looked at each other for a moment.

Teague shook his head. "Think I wanted you to die, boy, 'stead of me?" he growled. "Makes me no better than Blackbeard."

Jack shrugged. "Sorry, Dad. 'Preciate the offer, but I couldn't do it. It was _my_ choice, not yours. 'Sides, Elizabeth is going to need you to finish teaching her the Code an' all. I'd be no help there, and you know it."

"That's true enough," Teague admitted. "Never saw a pirate bend and twist the Code like you do."

Jack gave a short laugh. "Never been any good at following rules, have I?"

Teague's craggy face melted into a smile. "'Struth, you haven't, but you're a good lad all the same. I'm going to miss you, Jacky." He threw an arm around Jack's shoulders and hugged him briefly.

Jack returned the hug, and motioned toward Elizabeth with his head. "You'll take care of…?"

Teague nodded. "Aye, we'll do. I imagine I'll see you again before too many more decades go by."

"Thanks, Dad. Don't hurry on my account, though."

Teague chuckled. "No fear. Not when you're leaving such a pretty girl in my tender care."

Jack broke into a grin. "Take what you can," he said.

"Give nothing back," Teague finished the quote. He glanced around. "Best go say goodbye to your lady, and I'll take her back to the Cove with me."

"Right," Jack said. He started toward Elizabeth, but stopped and beckoned to Calypso. "Don't suppose you could, er, fulfill your part of the bargain? I'd like to know she's really alive before we say goodbye."

"Yes," Calypso told him, and reached out her hand toward Elizabeth. She touched Elizabeth's chest with her fingertips. A golden glow sparked in Calypso's eyes, traveled down her arm, and flared up at her fingertips.

Elizabeth gasped, pulling in a huge lungful of air, and then another. And another. She turned wide brown eyes towards Jack. "My heart's beating again!"

He smiled in relief as he reached out to touch her. The skin on her neck didn't feel clammy and stiff anymore.

"Better,"he said in relief. He'd be able to kiss her goodbye now. He slid his hand down behind her shoulder to pull her closer. He bent down and pressed his ear against her left breast. "I hear it." He nodded his thanks to Calypso, and she gave him a little bow in return before going back to stand next to Will.

Jack moved Elizabeth's shirt aside to see the gunshot wound, which was gone. He felt it with his fingertips; there was only the faintest bit of ridged scar tissue there.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and folded her arms, raising her eyebrows at him. Jack had displayed quite a bit of her cleavage, checking on her wound. Jack glanced around at everyone watching him with varying expressions of discomfort or amusement as he carefully inspected Elizabeth's chest with his hands as well as his eyes. "Oh," he muttered.

Teague chuckled. Jack gave the others a pointed look as he drew Elizabeth aside into the shadow of the quarter-deck stairs. He pulled her shirt closed again. "Sorry."

Elizabeth let out a laugh that turned into a sob, and she buried her face in Jack's shoulder. He held her tightly, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He stroked her hair. "Going to miss you, love," he whispered.

She nodded. "You've brought me back to life so many times already, in so many different ways. How am I supposed to go on without you?"

Jack ran gentle fingers down the side of her face. "You'll do fine, sweetheart. Not much of a choice, is there?"

"Will you wait for me?" she asked, dashing away her tears impatiently. "Here, on the _Dutchman_? And later when I join you, we can go on together."

He nodded. "Assuming our dear William allows it, I will."

Elizabeth made another sound that sounded as if it might have been a laugh if she weren't crying. "It's another big favor I'm asking. You'll have to add it to my account. After all, you won't be '_Captain_' Jack Sparrow here. The _Dutchman_ already has a captain."

"Ah, it's not so bad. It was worth a lot of '_captains_' to hear you call me '_your_' Jack. But listen: if you do find someone worth marrying, don't hesitate. You do what you need to do, for yourself and Jake. Just make sure you come back to me at the end of it all, eh?"

She nodded. "I will. I promise." She rested her forehead against his. "My Jack. My love."

He closed his eyes. "I love you," he whispered, "My Lizzie." He gently tipped her face up and their lips met. Their last kiss had been all desperation and terror. This one was tender and slow, and Jack cupped her face in his hands as her arms went around his neck to pull him closer.

Elizabeth pulled his head closer. "You taste of rum and the sea," she whispered against his lips, "all salty and sweet." She kissed him again, threading her fingers through his hair.

Jack finished the kiss and sighed into her mouth. He felt the tears start again. "'Liz'beth," he whispered. He opened his eyes, blinking to clear them, and gave her a half-smile. "You have to go, love. Back among the living, at least for a while, eh?"

She nodded. He could tell how much it cost her, but she smiled back at him. "I'll see you again," she told him, "…love." She stepped back, out of his arms. She wiped her face and squared her shoulders. As she brushed past him, her hand fell to caress his knuckles, just as it had once before in similar circumstances. He felt a rush of pride for her and he smiled crookedly even as tears slipped down his face.


	54. Payment and Sacrifice

Jack waited behind the stairs until Elizabeth had hugged Will and said goodbye to him, thanked Calypso, and climbed down into Teague's boat with him and they had cast off. Then Jack came out to face Calypso and Will. He had been crying openly and didn't bother wiping his eyes. He felt rather entitled to a little self-pity at the moment, truth to tell. What good would it do him now, to keep up his usual aplomb?

"Well, William?" he asked. "Going to let me stay on? Before the mast, if nothing else?"

Will nodded, but said nothing, his expression one of sympathetic sorrow.

Jack turned to Calypso and spread out his arms. "All right, then, dearie. I'm ready. Let's get it over with."

Calypso came close to him and reached out to his face. She smiled warmly as she reached up with both hands and touched his wet cheeks with her fingertips. "I accept your sacrifice," she told him.

Jack waited.

And waited.

"I still feel alive," he said after a while.

Calypso nodded. "You sacrifice your tears. I accept."

Jack's eyebrows drew together. "What was all that folderol about my choosing a sacrifice and losing someone I loved?"

"You proved you willin' to sacrifice your whole life even though it break your heart to leave her. When a sailah like you shed tears, Jack, it is him heart bleedin' salt watah."

She looked away, flushing a little. "Also, you remind me about mercy and compassion. You are right. I had forgot."

"Aye, well… Hope there're no hard feelings over that, Tia Dalma."

"No."

"But what about payment? You said something about a sacrifice _and _payment_._ And I know you never work without payment."

She smiled at him, stroking his cheek again. "Me wan' Captain Jack Sparrow, I t'ink."

Will cleared his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Will frowning and shifting his weight uneasily on the deck.

"Uh, I'm not offering the same sort of payment your little dolly over there did," Jack said, tilting his head in Will's direction. "Just want to make that clear. Anything _else_ I have that you want?"

She nodded, smiling up into his eyes. "Aye, me wan' a part o' you, Jack."

"Isn't that what you just got? All that salt water and all?"

"I accept de tears 'cause dey come from yo' heart. Fe de payment I want part o' what mek you Captain Jack Sparrow. Part of de legend is what I want."

"Which part?" Jack asked nervously, clasping his hands in front of his groin.

"Me wan' your hair."

"Oh, my _hair_!" he said in relief, unclasping his hands.

Calypso went over to Will and took his father's knife off his belt, with a short pause to run her fingers over his cheek in a quick caress. "No need fe you be jealous, my William."

Will started to protest, but she had already turned back to Jack with the knife in her hand.

"You willin' ta give up yo' hair fe me payment?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes and dropped his head in dejected assent. "Aye, go ahead." His short front locks, usually held back by the bandana, flopped over his forehead. Calypso cut them off with short, sharp flicks of the knife. She went around behind him and drew the blade of the knife up underneath his hair, shearing it all off close to his head. She tossed the cut hair over her shoulder like a cloak as she moved around to first one side, then the other, to get it all.

Then she moved around front and grinned at him with blackened teeth as she made two flicks of her knife and removed the beaded plaits from his beard.

"But you're the one who gave me those, Tia!" Jack protested.

"An' you used dem as we agreed, an' den you wove dem into your legend like you wove dem into your beard, an' now me takin' dem back again." Calypso lifted her chin, giving him a determined look. "You can keep dem if you want, Jack. Jus' be prepared to pay me some oddah way!"

"No, no," Jack said quickly, waving his hands dismissal. "Take 'em. Ye're welcome to 'em, Tia. Truly."

Calypso grinned. "Me know dat a'ready!"

When she was finished, Jack had short hair in the back and on the sides, and some longer bits on top, that flopped into his face. He brushed them aside irritably, scowling, and rubbed his plaitless, scraggly beard.

"Now that you've made me look a right fool, is there anything else you need?" he demanded.

Calypso held up two huge fistfuls of his hair. "You t'ink anyone else in de world has de tears an' hair o' Jack Sparrow? De tears, dey part of yo' heart, de hair, dat part o' yo' legend. Dat payment enough."

Jack sighed in relief. "Oh, good. But, er… d'ye mind if I get something out of there before you take it?" He gestured to his bunch of hair.

Calypso snatched the locks away as he reached for them. "Dey help make you legend. All yo' memories an' trinkets in here—dey mine, Jack."

"I'm not askin' for 'em back, Tia. Just one little thing that I promise has nothing to do with my being 'Captain Jack Sparrow.' All right?"

She stood still while he rummaged through the shorn locks.

"Aha!" he said, pulling out a dainty silver trinket. "Here it is. This one's not mine, you see; I was just looking after it for a friend. You can keep the rest. Just—er, with the voodoo and all—just don't do anything nasty with 'em, savvy?"

Calypso chuckled, but made no promises.

"So… does this mean I can go back?" Jack asked.

She nodded.

"No catch? No qualifiers? No stipulations? No—"

Will laughed. "Jack," he said, walking up with his hand outstretched. "I never thought I'd ever get to tell you this, but get the hell off my ship."

Jack shook his hand. "With the greatest of pleasure, I promise you!" He grabbed Calypso and gave her a loud, smacking buss on the cheek, and then sprinted for the side. He dove over and was swimming back toward the _Black Pearl_ in an instant. He was laughing as he swam.


	55. He's a Jolly Good Fellow

_Note: I had a couple of reviewers say they couldn't imagine Jack without all his long hair and dreadlocks and all. I based my mental picture of a short-haired Jack on several photos of Johnny Depp at some red-carpet events and other films. If anyone is interested in seeing how I picture Jack without all his hair, visit my livejournal, found here: **anwallace (dot) livejournal (dot) com ** to see several of the photos that I'm talking about._

_And my anonymous reviewer who complained about all the action-I can't reply directly since you didn't log in, but I invite you to look up "dramatic structure" on wikipedia for an explanation of what I'm doing here (actually, I invite all my readers to do so, as it really helps to understand the structure of a story arc!). This is a novel-length story, so I am using typical novel structure. All the action scenes comprise the climax, and the subsequent "death and sacrifice" scenes are the falling action. There is going to be a slightly extended denouement, and then it will be over. I've had it all planned for weeks, and have nearly finished writing it. Thank you for your comments, particularly about the fencing scene, but the structure of the story arc is not changeable at this point._

_As always, please read and review! We're in the homestretch here!_

* * *

Will exchanged mischievous glances with Calypso. He dematerialized from the _Dutchman_ and was waiting there at the _Black Pearl_ when Jack pulled himself up the ladder, sodden, dripping, and breathless.

"I could have brought you, you know," he said calmly.

"Ahhhh!" Jack yelped, startled again. He glared at Will. "_Stop doing that!_"

Will laughed. Jack leaned against the gunwale and lifted each leg in turn to empty the water out of his boots. He reached up to squeeze the water from his hair, but ended up sheepishly patting the back of his shorn head with both hands.

"Want some help?" Will offered.

"With what?"

"Drying off."

Jack gave him a disgusted look. "I can do it myself, _darling._"

Will grimaced. "I didn't mean like that. I just meant—" He gestured toward Jack's clothes. "It's one of my clever powers. One touch and you're dry. Even your boots."

"Fine, then. Ye can touch my boots." Jack put one foot forward.

Will gave him an innocent smile and stomped on Jack's toes.

"Ow!" Jack cried, hopping on his other foot. "What the hell, Will?"

"You're dry, aren't you?" Will asked him coolly.

He was.

"Next time I'll just stay wet, if it's all the same to you. What did you do that for?"

"Oh, just a little reminder, before you go ashore to woo my wife. Don't you dare hurt or dishonor her, because when you die you'll be having to answer to me. '_Savvy?'"_

Jack gave him an insouciant grin. "She's not _your_ wife, mate. Never was. Now, as to whether or not she'll be _mine_, well… we'll just have to wait and see."

"Oh, so you _do_ want to marry her?" Will asked him with a sharp look.

Jack gave a salacious smile. "Will, I want her every way I can have her."

Will shrugged. "Can't fault your taste. I do hope it doesn't bother you that I had her first," he taunted.

Jack pulled off his tattered coat and draped it over his arm. He looked up at Will again. "You had her _once_, William, and never legally. I'm going to have her forever, in the eyes of God and man, and in every way possible." He walked past Will toward his cabin to change into clean clothes, pausing only once to look back and say, "Oh, and Will? Get the hell off my ship." The cabin door closed behind him.

Will heard someone laughing, and looked around. Gibbs was standing watch, and had seen the whole confrontation. He was snickering. "'A hit,'" he quoted. "'A very palpable hit!'"*

Will snorted. "No argument here," he said, with a rueful grin. "Evening, Gibbs."

"Evening, Will. What happened over there?" Gibbs asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Jack saved Elizabeth by bawling like a baby in front of Calypso," Will told him. He grinned. "But I'm sure you'll be able to work sea turtles into it somehow." He nodded to Gibbs and disappeared.

"Aye," Gibbs said thoughtfully, "but it'll be harder than usual."

"Mr Gibbs!" Jack yelled, sticking his head out the door of his cabin and peering up at his first mate.

"Aye, Captain?"

"Wake Mr Cotton and see if he's well enough to come in here with his shaving kit!"

"Aye, Captain!"

Cotton showed up at Jack's door a few minutes later, with his parrot on his shoulder, his barbering kit in his hands, and a puzzled look on his face.

"Ah, Cotton. Feeling better, I'm glad to see. Just neaten this up a bit, will you?" Jack gestured toward his ragged-looking haircut and waggled his fingers under the scraggly remainders of his beard.

Cotton's eyes bugged at the sight of his newly-shorn captain. "Weigh anchor!" squawked his parrot. "Full canvas!"

"Aye, that's the general idea," Jack admitted. "Go on, man, what are you waiting for?"

Shaking his head in amazement, Cotton got out his comb and scissors and set to work.

When Cotton had finished, Jack thoughtfully examined his reflection in the glass. It could be worse. He wasn't very piratical-looking anymore, but he was still an awfully handsome devil.

He had a quick sponge bath to wash off the last of the sweat and blood from the battle, and put on some clean clothes and his new hat. Then he left Cotton on watch and had Gibbs fetch up something from below, and then row him ashore. He had to go see Elizabeth and his father and tell them he was all right, but he had one small matter to see to, first.

Looking quite dapper in clean clothes, a tidy haircut, and neatly groomed short beard, Jack strode boldly into Pirates Hall. Barbossa was there with Tai Huang and a few of the Empress' crew, Scrum and a few others from the _Revenge,_ along with some of the _Pearl's_ crew as well.

Barbossa was munching on a green apple. He'd just taken a large bite when his eyes flickered up to see Jack standing in the doorway. His mouth dropped open in shock. His mouthful of apple plopped out wetly onto the table.

"Evenin', Cap'n Sparrow," Scrum greeted. "Pleased to see you survived the day after all. Some fun, eh?"

"Greetings, my piratical compatriots," Jack said to them all.

"Jaaack, what are ye doin' here?" Barbossa asked, flicking the half-chewed apple bits from the table onto the floor. "Cap'n Teague told us all ye were dead!"

Jack looked smug. "No need to be jealous, Hector, just because you've managed to come back from the dead only once! As you can see, I'm somewhat altered in appearance from my experience, but very much the same in essentials. Just thought I'd pop in to greet you gentlemen and express my appreciation for your assistance with the Blackbeard-spawn who fancied herself and her six warships a match for the _pirates of Shipwreck Cove_!"

Jack's voice had risen on this last sentence, and his enthusiasm was catching. The men, Marty, Ragetti, and Pintel among them, started grinning and agreeing loudly as Jack went on with his speech.

"I just want to emphasize here: we were three ships—"

"—And a fort!" Marty put in proudly.

"—And a _small_ fort, with only four guns, 'gainst seven Spanish warships. Did we make bargains with eldritch creatures?"

"No!" yelled some of the men.

"Did we have an armada at our disposal?"

"No!" they cried.

"Did we turn tail and run when we saw what we were up against?" Jack queried boisterously.

"No! We gave 'em what-for!" yelled Scrum.

Jack pointed at him with a smile. "That's it! Gentlemen, we beat the tar out of them!" Jack announced. "We thrashed 'em so bad that even the ones what lived will be pulling out splinters of warship for the rest of their lives. We taught those dim-witted Spaniards to think twice before they come an' attack proper pirates in our own waters! And for that, gentlemen, you have my sincere gratitude… _and a barrel of rum!"_

He whistled a signal, and Mr Gibbs sauntered in amid cheers, with a cask of rum on his shoulder. He dropped it onto the table and wiped his brow with the back of his wrist.

"Now," Gibbs announced. "Let's get this party started!"

There was a roar of approval over this idea, combined with a ragged chorus of "For he's a jolly good fellow," sung in Jack's honor. Jack grinned and waved amid the general jollity, bowed to the _Empress'_ crew, bumped fists with Gibbs, and was gone by the time they reached "…And so say all of us!"

* * *

* Hamlet, Act 5, Scene II. _Yes, I do think Gibbs can read, and may even have read some Shakespeare in his youth._

_Note: Partial inspiration for this chapter and for one aspect of a future chapter was taken from Lakritzwolf's delightful story, "Generations," which can be found here on FFN (and on my fav. stories list, along with its sequel, "Generations II" in case anyone is interested). __I was inspired slightly by Lakritzwolf and I want to make sure I give credit where it is due._

_Readers may also notice similarities between this and Brethless M's_ excellent _stories "The Flying Dutchman" and "Savarna" (also on my fav's list); however, I read them after I had most of this one already written, so the similarities are coincidental in that case. She and I just had some brain-crossing going on, that's all.  
_

_However, all four stories are quite good, so make sure you go read and review 'em when you finish this one!  
_


	56. Back to Life

It was quite late by the time Jack rang his father's doorbell.

Maggie the housemaid opened the door and screamed when she saw him. She dropped to the floor in a dead faint. Jack made a noise that was a cross between a laugh and a groan, as he walked in. He stepped over her carefully as he closed the door.

The distinctive click of a pistol being cocked made him freeze in place, hands fluttering nervously out from his body.

Teague's menacing rumble came from the darkened doorway of the sitting room. "Who are ye and what do ye do here?"

"Hello, Dad," Jack said, with a degree of relief. "Just came by to let you know that I didn't end up having to die after all."

Teague mulled this over. Jack listened for the pistol to de-cock. When it didn't happen, he frowned. "Dad?"

"Jacky?" Teague asked, finally coming out into the light. He saw Jack standing over the unconscious housemaid, with his hands still up.

"Oh," Teague said, finally de-cocking the pistol.

Jack sighed and lowered his hands.

"So ye didn't die, then," Teague observed. He nodded several times, swallowing. "I'm glad of that, Jacky. Glad to see ye."

Jack smiled at the warm response he felt to this declaration of paternal love—one of the first he could remember hearing from his father.

Teague peered owlishly at him, and Jack realized that Teague was three, maybe four sheets to the wind. He felt a stab of envy.

"What's happened to your hair?" Teague asked him.

"Had to give it up," Jack answered. "'S one of the things Calypso demanded so's I could send Elizabeth back to life. Is she still up?"

Teague thought the question over for a minute or two, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. Then he nodded. "Oh, aye. Aye, she's in there. We was—we was—we were just 'avin' a drink together. In your memory. Givin' ye a proper send-off, as it were."

Jack grinned. "Mind if I join you, then?"

Teague nodded and opened the door wide. Jack stopped. "What about—?" he asked, waving his hand in the housemaid's direction. His gesture expressed both his disdain and his concern simultaneously.

Teague rolled his eyes., "Let 'er lie. Girl ought to be made of stronger stuff."

"Aye," Jack agreed. "And speaking of stronger stuff…" he took from his pocket the bottle of rum Elizabeth had given him when she gave him the new hat.

Teague smiled and waved him into the room.

It was lit only by a couple of candles, barely illuminating Elizabeth's form as she perched on the divan, staring into a candle flame. She clutched a half-full bottle with both hands. She didn't look up when they entered.

"Good news, Miss Liz," Teague slurred. "Jacky's still alive."

Elizabeth's head whipped around and she dropped the bottle. She was off the divan and in Jack's arms in less than a second.

Jack hugged her hard, holding her head tightly up against his shoulder, where she muffled her sobs of relief in his coat. Teague wandered over, picked up Elizabeth's dropped bottle, and sat down with it in the chair opposite. He lifted the bottle in their direction and toasted them silently before tipping it up. He watched them embracing, with all the attention and enjoyment that comes with watching good theatre.

Jack produced a handkerchief from his sleeve and mopped Elizabeth's face with it. "Here, love, no need for all that. Turns out I didn't need to die after all. Calypso sent me back to you."

Elizabeth wiped her streaming eyes, and, with the rapid shift of mood that drunkenness brings, glared at him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged closer, so they were almost nose to nose. "So help me, Jack Sparrow, if you ever leave me like that again," she hissed, "I will make you sorry you were ever born!"

"Not to worry, love," he assured her, "Since I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Ever. Savvy?"

Her response was to pull him even closer and attack his mouth with frantic kisses. Her hands started pushing the coat from his shoulders, desperate to feel his body under them, to make sure he was real, warm, alive.

"Now, now," Teague mumbled. "Reef yer sails, Miss Liz. I don't need to see you debauchin' my son in me own sitting room."

"So leave!" Jack growled.

Elizabeth giggled a little drunkenly. "I'm sorry, Captain Teague. I got carried away."

"I don't mind!" Jack assured her, turning his back on his father. "Ignore him."

"You don't mind, but her aunt will," Teague pointed out. "And she's not someone to cross."

Jack grimaced in agreement, shoulders slumping. He sighed and sat back on the divan, pulling Elizabeth back to sprawl against him. He reached for the bottle he had brought. "Well, Auntie can't object to this sort of debauchery, can she?" he asked rhetorically, popping out the cork and taking a swig. "Especially as we're celebratin' her niece's return from the dead! Not to mention my own," he added.

"True enough," Teague agreed. He raised his own bottle and clinked it against Jack's. "To your health, then, son," he toasted, "And that of your lady."

"And yours," Jack added, toasting his father in return.

Elizabeth kicked off her slippers, tucked her feet up underneath her, and curled up in the circle of Jack's arm with her head lolling on his shoulder. Her fingers trailed through the short hairs at the back of his neck. "Your hair," she murmured.

"Had to give it up," he told her. "Sorry, love."

"'S all right," she replied with a yawn. "This way looks nice too." Her face nestled into his neck as she drifted off to sleep.

"Long day," Teague remarked.

"Aye," Jack agreed, taking another swig. He was so tired he felt boneless, slumping down into the cushions with his legs stretched out in front of him and a warm, comfortable Elizabeth nestled into his shoulder. He rested his cheek against her hair and let his eyes drift closed. Sprawled in the chair across from them, Teague smiled as he tipped his head back and let his own eyes fall shut.


	57. Katzenjammer

Jack woke to the sound of a very faint, rhythmic thumping sound that he couldn't place. He took a deep breath, but felt a warm, heavy weight on his chest and he slowly blinked his eyes open to see what it was.

Somehow during the night, he had stretched out and lain down on the divan, and Elizabeth had ended up sprawled directly on top of him, her golden head nestled into the crook of his neck.

Jack checked around the room. Teague was gone; it was just him and Elizabeth there, sharing the divan.

He smiled wickedly. He wouldn't have minded staying there a while longer to enjoy the feel of her body pressing against his, the small movements she made as she began the waking-up process while pressed full-length against him. He knew from sharing a cabin with her for a week that she could take as long as an hour to go from a sound sleep to waking up naturally.

No, he wouldn't have minded, except that he had a fierce need to relieve himself, and Elizabeth's hipbone was digging in to the wrong spot and making it worse.

"'Lizabeth," he said. "Time to wake up, love."

"Mmmph," was her unintelligible response.

He poked her harder. "Wake up, Elizabeth. You're in a fairly compromising position with a pirate, darling. Don't want your aunt to come in and find you here like this."

"Don't care," she muttered belligerently. "'S _my_ pirate. Comf't'ble."

"Sweetheart, your pirate's about to wet himself if you don't get off his bladder," Jack warned her. "Then neither one of us will be comfortable."

"Oh, all right," she grumbled, maneuvering herself around to sit up on the edge of the divan. She yawned, and then stood up so he could heave himself to his feet. She touched his hand. "Come right back."

A year ago, a directive like that from a woman would have had Jack hightailing it back to his ship and lifting anchor within the hour. Now, he nodded once and merely hightailed it out to the backhouse at the bottom of the garden—and then he came right back.

He chuckled at the sight of Elizabeth sitting there on the divan, shielding her eyes from the sun and rubbing her temples. "Morning head?" he asked quietly.

"Don't shout so," she grumbled. She stood up and shuffled slowly to the door, with her hands over her eyes.

"You're walking a little strange, there, love," Jack remarked with amusement.

She uncovered one eye long enough to glare at him with it. "'S because if I put my heels down too hard my eyeballs will fall out," she informed him seriously.

He let out a low laugh. He could afford to laugh, since he had passed out the night before more from exhaustion than drink—for once. "Let me go see what Maggie might have that will help," he said, and held the door for her so she could leave to visit the privy herself.

A little later, Jack and Aunt Agatha ate heartily at the breakfast table, while Teague and Elizabeth eschewed the porridge and eggs and seemed content with dry toast and black coffee.

"Something seems to be ailing our companions, Captain Sparrow," Agatha remarked. Elizabeth ignored her. Teague flicked his gaze up to her for an instant, and then returned to the contemplation of his coffee.

"Too much of a good thing, I think," was Jack's view.

"You may be right. Shall we take pity on them, or tease them mercilessly?" asked Agatha.

"They're still here," said Elizabeth through gritted teeth, "And they can both hear you."

"Perhaps tease them... mercifully," Jack suggested. "Maggie's mixing up a little something that will help."

"Oh, I meant to tell you, dear," Agatha told Jack, "how handsome you look without all that messy hair all clumped up together. How did you happen to get a haircut on the day of the battle, anyway?"

"Long story, Auntie," Jack said, "But thank you for the compliment."

"I mean it, Jack, dear. Very handsome. Why, if I were twenty or thirty years younger, I'd be setting my cap at you myself!"

Jack laughed. "Auntie, I doubt I could keep up with you even now!" He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me. Brought you something." He fished in his coat pocket and came out with her earring, the one he had stolen in London with his teeth. "Had to give up the hair, so I figured I'd return it."

"Oh, but Jack! I can't accept this!" Agatha protested. "This was the start of your whole collection!" She pushed it across the table at him. "No, dear, you should keep that."

Teague cleared his throat and said in his quiet, gravelly voice, "Mayhap I might wish to begin a collection of me own."

Jack's eyes darted from Agatha to Teague and back again, and he pushed the earring back across the table to her. "Best put it back on your ear, dearie."


	58. Propositions and Proposals

After breakfast Maggie did indeed have a concoction that she swore would sweeten even Captain Teague's temper and headache when he was hung over, and Elizabeth was soon persuaded as to its efficacy. Soon she was feeling much more the thing, and after she had bathed and dressed (in a dress this time), felt ready to take on the world... together with Jack.

Jack invited her out with him. "I've business with Barbossa," he told her, "And we have to figure out what to do with Angelica. I can't have her corrupting my beautiful _Pearl_ for much longer, not even my brig. And then…" he gave her a significant look. "And then I have business with you, my girl."

"Business?" Elizabeth asked, diverted by the thought. "What business would that be?"

"You'll see. Now come on. I want you with me when I talk to Barbossa."

"Because you need my moral support?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

He scoffed. "Hardly. Because he's going to have a morning head twice as bad as yours, and he's going to say something to burn you up. Then while you're yelling at him all shrill-like, I'll ask him what I have to ask him and he'll give me anything I want if I'll only shut you up and get you out of there."

It worked out much as he had planned. Jack left smiling, and Elizabeth left steamed and muttering imprecations about Barbossa. The hungover older captain had made several impertinent remarks about her _Empress_ crew's having to pretend she was a man, and a muttered-under-his-breath remark about the new-found accord between her and Jack, and she didn't appreciate any of them. At. All.

Finally she calmed down enough to ask Jack, "What did you want from him?"

"Few of his crew. Good men. Got to know 'em when we was sailing for the Fountain. Think they'd fit in pretty well with my _Pearl's_ crew, so I swapped 'em for Ragetti and Pintel. Anyway, he owes me for losing the rest of 'em when Blackbeard took the ship."

Several minutes later, Elizabeth was still fuming. Jack chuckled. "Angelica can wait. Come with me," he invited. " I'll take you to a spot I know. Might help cool off your temper."

"Fine," she replied shortly.

They left the town and walked down a narrow, winding footpath to a less populated part of the island. "It's right down here," Jack told her, leading her down between some boulders to a little mossy cave.

The sun streamed into the mouth of the cave, lighting up the turquoise waters within, and making shifting, dappled patterns on the cavern ceiling. Elizabeth sank down on the mossy rock next to the water. "Oh, it's beautiful!" she said.

"Aye, I thought you'd like it." Jack dropped down beside her and proceeded to pull off his boots and socks, digging his toes into the soft, cool moss with a sigh of contentment.

"Oh, good idea!" Elizabeth pulled off her shoes and pulled her skirt up to the thighs to roll down her stockings. Jack blinked a couple of times at the sight of her shapely white thighs, but then she flipped her skirt back down to mid-calf and buried her feet in the moss. "Ohh, that's good."

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him and rested her head against his. They sat in silence like that for a while.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do with Angelica?" she asked.

He wrinkled his nose. "Couple of ideas. Don't want to kill her. Just want to keep her out of my hair for… well, for the rest of my life."

"Not that you have much hair to speak of anymore," Elizabeth pointed out with a smile, stroking her hand up the back of his shorn head.

"Ah, that's—" Jack shivered. "That's neither here nor—ah, love, don't stop doing that, eh? Feels wonderful." He arched into her caress like a cat.

"Have I found a heretofore unknown weakness of the notorious Captain Sparrow?" she asked, brown eyes wide in mock wonder.

He shook his head. "Just of Jack's. Captain Sparrow has no weaknesses."

"No, of course not," Elizabeth murmured. She scratched at the back of his head with her nails and he moaned in delight. His eyelids fluttered closed.

"Keep doing that and I may never grow my hair long again," he said. She smiled and withdrew her hand, and in that moment he turned his head, tipped her face up and found her lips with his. It was unhurried and thorough, and he pulled her closer, never parting as he bore her backwards down to lie on the soft moss.

Elizabeth finally broke away and stared up at him as he leaned on his elbow looking down at her with intense, velvety black eyes. He was out of breath, and so was she, and she whispered his name and grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him down to her again. She kissed his cheekbones, his temples, his nose. She kissed his neck, where the creases were seasoned with sea-salt, and felt him shiver.

He rolled half on top of her, one leg between hers, his other hand running down her ribcage to rest on her hip where he took a fistful of fabric to prevent his hand from wandering further. His lips traveled down her neck, and she gasped at the feel of his teeth nipping her shoulder. She pulled his face back up closer to hers and devoured his mouth.

He broke the kiss, panting. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath, rolling off her to lie on his back in the moss beside her.

"Jack?" she asked, reaching out to touch his hand. "Are you all right?"

"Just—give us a minute, won't you, love?" He fought to get himself back under control.

She rolled over onto her side to look at him. "So this was the 'business' you had with me, was it?"

Still panting, he huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "N—not—exactly."

"Well, then, what?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't bring you here so I could debauch you on the floor of a cave," he told her.

"Oh, really? How disappointing," Elizabeth said, deadpan. "Are you sure about that?" She placed a daring hand on his thigh, sliding it slowly upwards.

"You're not helping, 'Lizabeth." He groaned and captured her hand, holding it still. "Much as I hate to disappoint a lady, _especially_ when there's debauchery involved, I have to know something."

"All right, then. What?"

He sat up with a graceful, feline movement, keeping her hand trapped in his. He looked at her seriously. "I need to know if you meant it, darling. You kissed me and called me 'your Jack,' and said you loved me. I need to know if you meant it."

"My taking a bullet for you wasn't proof enough?"

He shook his head. "You love me enough to die for me, aye. You proved that, but I need to know that what you said to me wasn't just an impulse."

"It wasn't, Jack." She sat up and faced him.

"You're sure, 'Lizabeth? 'Cause I know you ended up regretting your marriage to Will from time to time. I told you before, love. I don't _ever_ want to be something you regret."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, but Jack was in one of his rare, transparent, serious moods. She hadn't seen him like this since the _Pearl,_ when he had called her to account for her distrust of him.

He went on. "You're the same girl who got married on a whim in the midst of a battle, to someone you'd been estranged from for over a year. We know your head don't always rule your heart when you're caught up in the romance of a life-or-death situation. You proved you love me enough to die for me. But do you love me enough to live for me? With me? Day in, day out, when I drink too much, and snore too loud, and bathe too little? This… thing… between us has been a long time coming, and I'm not going to be satisfied with anything short-term or shallow, darling. I want a life with you, 'Lizabeth."

She looked away. "What kind of a life can we have, when you'll be at sea all the time and I'll be on land with a baby to raise? I've already done that, Jack, and you're right. I did regret it."

"We'll have whatever kind of life you want. You want to raise little Jake on board ship? We can, though we'll have to do a little less piratin'. You want me to go and live ashore with you somewhere? I will. I just need to know that it's what you want as well, sweetheart."

"Yes, but you're a pirate, Jack. You have a girl in every port. You love your freedom more than life. A life with me, helping me raise my son—well, it would tie you down in ways you've never been constrained before. I've already put shackles on you once in this life, Jack, and it killed you. I've sworn never to do it again."

His expression softened. "Ah, but you'd be shackling me to you, and I'd be shackling you to me. That makes all the difference. Just be sure, that's all I ask. You see, it's one thing to make a grand gesture—and that _was_, don't get me wrong—but to put up with all the nitty-gritty little details of loving someone on a daily basis… well, that takes a lot more sacrifice sometimes than just diving in front of a bullet for them."

"And you want to know if I'm up to the challenge," she summarized.

"Yes." He _must_ be serious, she realized, if he was being this formal with his speech when she was expecting his usual _aye._

"What about you? You did the same thing for me, but being together on a… well, a permanent basis would mean being a father to my son, and being faithful to me. You'd have to give up all your port doxies. Even if I were ill or something, you couldn't go scratch your itch with anyone else, even if she were offering and I wasn't there. Would you be willing to do all that? Would you even be _able_ to?"

He stared at her and shook his head. "You honestly think I wouldn't want to give up swiving whores for you? You're insane." Then he started to smile. "Or are you sayin' you don't think you're enough woman for me?"

She colored and looked away. "Well, you have to admit that a man as experienced as you probably has… expectations… that a woman who has only been with a man once in her life probably wouldn't be able to fulfill. I just don't know if I'd be able to… hold your interest, over the long term."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, darling. You've held my interest on that count since the day we met. And I already know you're a quick study." He gave her a wicked smirk.

She smiled back, still blushing. She lowered her lashes demurely. "So how soon do you want to begin this 'life together'?"

"Soon's we can, sweetheart."

"Well, then." Elizabeth reached up and started unbuttoning her bodice.

"Er, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Jack said uneasily, eyes glued to her increasingly visible cleavage.

"What? You just told me you were interested," she flirted.

"Fascinated. Nay, riveted. My interest levels are, uh, rising rapidly, as it were. But I did mention that I didn't intend to ravish you on the floor of a cave. Button yourself up again now, there's a good lass."

Elizabeth gave him a sharp look, but buttoned up. "You realize this is twice now that I've thrown myself at you to no avail." She warned him, "Keep this up and I'm going to think you don't want me at all."

Jack grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her closer for a hard, hungry kiss. "I _do_ want you. 'M literally aching for wanting you. But I also love you, and I want to do this right with you, Liz. I don't want anyone to think you're just a passing fancy to me. And I don't want you compromisin' your morals just because you're feeling insecure, either, love. You've no need to be throwin' yourself at me to prove anything. You've already sacrificed your life for me. I won't let you sacrifice your reputation as well."

He pressed his forehead against hers, and smiled. "I'm onto your tricks now, sweetheart, and they won't work. If you want me, you're going to have to make an honest man of me."

"What do you mean?"

"You want to lie with me, you'll have to marry me legal and proper."

"M—marry you?" she gasped.

He gave her a disgruntled look. "Aye, what'd you think I was talking about when I said I wanted a life with you? I know I've been with a lot of other women before, but you're not like them and I won't have anyone thinkin' you are. I don't want anyone ever thinking that Jack Sparrow wasn't willing to marry his lady—_or _that his lady wasn't really a lady."

"I thought—well, I didn't really think you meant…"

"Oh, so even _you_ thought Jack Sparrow wasn't willing to marry his lady, eh? You really thought I'd sacrifice my life for yours, but wouldn't be willing to make you a few promises in front of witnesses?" He gusted out a theatrical sigh and cast his eyes heavenward. "Always, you sell me short."

Elizabeth giggled a little at his hamming. "Jack!"

"Fine, then. We'll make it official." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again. "Marry me, Elizabeth," he said softly. "I've loved you for a long time now, sweetheart. I'll be a good father to Jake and to any others to come along, and I'll forsake all others and keep only unto you, I swear it. I'll provide for you and never abandon you. I'm not a good man, but I'm yours if you want me. Please, marry me."

His brows drew together with concern when he saw her eyes fill with tears. Then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him harder than he'd ever been hugged in his life. "Jack! Oh, Jack," she said with a catch in her voice. "Yes, of course I want you. I love you!" She looked at him seriously. "I'll marry you."

He smiled, relieved, and kissed her, just a gentle press of lips. "How soon?"

"As soon as we possibly can! Wait—can't you perform it yourself, if we go back to the _Pearl_?"

He shook his head. "'Course not."

"Why not? I thought you could perform a 'marr-i-age right on that deck'?" she asked.

He laughed. "You believed me? A captain can't officiate at his own wedding, love. I was just trying to get you into bed. Ow! Ow!" he cried as Elizabeth hit him several times. He grinned. "On the other hand, it would have been just as legal as the wedding Barbossa performed for you and your darling William," he teased. "Maybe _Will _was just trying to get you into bed. Pity he had better luck than I did."

He defended himself, laughing, as she rained down blows on his head and shoulders.

"That's not fair! I thought we were married!" she cried. "What happened to 'respectable widow,' hmm? And if you _were_ just trying to get me into bed, why the sudden change of heart now?"

"Told you. Only way I can be sure of your motives, innit? This way I can be sure you're with me for the right reasons, and not because you're trying to prove something to yourself, or to me, or because you miss your dearly departed William. No, ma'am. Our wedding is going to be right, proper, witnessed, and public. No one is ever going to doubt whether or not _our _marriage is valid, and maybe think the worse of you for it like they did in Flimwell. Also, I'm a possessive bugger who wants you to be mine in _every_ way, including legally. I've never liked it when other people steal my treasure."

Elizabeth smiled. "Spoken like a true pirate."

"Thank you. So shall we go inform our elders, then? Maybe in their dubious joy they'll let slip what they've been planning behind all those closed doors lately."

"Yes, do let's."


	59. Announcement

Agatha and Teague were both in his study when Jack and Elizabeth got back. Maggie ran after them as they headed for the study door. "The captain said they wasn't to be disturbed, Master Jack!"

Jack brushed off her warnings. "Aye, but our news is likely to be too disturbing for them not to want to be disturbed, and they'd be more disturbed if we didn't disturb 'em with it right away. They might even get disturbed with _you_ not wanting us to disturb 'em with it when it's so disturbing that I know they'd rather be disturbed. Savvy?"

"I… s'pose so, sir." The maid looked utterly bewildered, but let it go.

"Wonder what her problem is?" Jack muttered to Elizabeth.

She shrugged. "I'd no trouble following it."

Jack nodded, vindicated, and knocked on the study door.

"Aye?" came Teague's gravelly voice from within. "What do you want, boy?"

"How'd you know it was me?" Jack asked, pushing open the door.

Teague was sitting back in his chair, booted feet crossed on his desk. Agatha sat next to him in a straight chair, ankles crossed primly beneath her, teacup and saucer in front of her.

"Maggie wouldn't have dared to knock after I told her not to. You wouldn't have any qualms at all about it."

Jack ducked his head, allowing the truth of the statement.

Teague went on, "…And neither would the king, here."

"…Which neatly brings us to our reason for bargin' in," Jack said smoothly, "as Her Majesty and I seem to have so much in common an' all."

"Aye?" Teague asked, pushing back his hat and fixing his keen dark eyes on his son's face.

"As Keeper of the Code, if anyone knows the answer to our question, it'll be you."

"What question?"

Jack reached out and took Elizabeth's hand in his. "Is there any precedent for the pirate king to have a prince-consort?"

Teague said nothing, but merely raised his eyebrows.

Agatha frowned in puzzlement for a moment, and then her eyes were drawn to their clasped hands, and then up to Elizabeth's blushing, beaming face.

"Elizabeth!" she gasped. "Is this—are you— what—with _Captain Sparrow?_"

"This morning Jack asked me to marry him," Elizabeth said simply. "I told him yes."

Agatha and Teague exchanged glances.

"Well," Agatha said, starting to smile. "This certainly makes things easier, I must say!"

"Aye, it does," Teague agreed, weathered face cracking in a matching smile.

Agatha ran over to Elizabeth, to give her a hug and a kiss. Teague groaningly lowered his feet to the floor and got up, coming around the desk to congratulate his boy.

"Congratulations, boy," he said, shaking hands with him. "Ye made a right smart choice for once in your life."

"Thanks, dad," Jack replied with an honest smile. "'Twas bound to happen at least once, ye know."

Agatha released Elizabeth. "I'm very happy for you, dear. In truth, Captain Teague and I have been hoping for this sort of outcome for quite a while now!" She moved over to Jack and gave him a hug as well.

Teague grinned and grabbed Elizabeth's hand, pulling her into his arms. "My turn," he rumbled in her ear. "Mustn't mind me sentiment, Miss Liz. I like daughters." He gave her a loud smooch on the forehead and released her. He grinned at her. "They always smell better than the sons."

"Oh! My! Er, thank you, Captain Teague."

Agatha finally released Jack after giving him a kiss as well. Then she sighed and held out her hand. He chuckled and dropped her earrings into it. She kept her hand out and he pouted a little as he coiled her necklace into it as well.

"You're such a scamp," she told him.

"Aye, but ye love me anyway."

"Well, my niece apparently does, and that's the important part."

Jack tried to look humble. "I'll do me best to take care of her, as ye know."

Agatha said, "I'm very glad to hear it, as your father and I were just discussing my imminent return to Port Royale. I wouldn't want her to be alone after I depart."

"Oh!" Elizabeth said with dismay. She nodded, but her expression looked rather stricken. "You're right, of course. You must go back sometime, I guess. It's just that I have so enjoyed the chance to spend time with you that I hadn't thought about it yet."

"Well, I do think we've imposed on Captain Teague's hospitality long enough," Agatha said.

Teague cleared his throat. "No need to leave on my account, ma'am. Pleasure havin' ye. Even the little one hasn't been too awful noisy."

Agatha beamed at him. "Thank you, Captain. I've enjoyed it here very much. I have found it a broadening experience, truly. It's just that I have established a life for myself there at Port Royale."

"Well, if you're determined to leave us, Auntie, then I'll be more than happy to take you back on my _Pearl_ whenever you wish."

"Or I could bring you back on the _Empress,_" Elizabeth offered.

"My _Troubadour_ is also at your disposal, ma'am," Teague put in.

"Oh, my? How shall I choose?" Agatha asked, smiling.

"Easily," Jack said. "You choose my ship because she's the one who brought you here, and because it'll be a nice way to welcome me into the family."

She patted his cheek. "With an argument like that, how could I refuse?" she said graciously. "Though I daresay you've found my jewelry welcoming enough already."

"Ah, but one doesn't rob family," Jack protested. He nodded toward her neck, where a shiny silver necklace now sparkled. "At least, not permanently."

Agatha looked down and her mouth dropped open. "When did you—how long have you had—so _that's_ where it's been! How on earth did you put it back on me without my noticing? I can imagine your pinching it easily enough, considering all the practice you've had, but how did you put it back without my noticing?"

"Never forget, dearest of aunties," Jack announced grandly, arms out in a presentation gesture, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

"Piffle!" was Agatha's rejoinder.

Elizabeth giggled at Jack's taken-aback expression. She didn't think his momentous introduction had ever been "piffled" before.

"You're a rascal is what you are," Agatha said crisply. "The only reason I let you get away with your mischief is that I know that you're a good man who loves my niece."

Visibly touched, Jack smiled. "Why, thank you, dear. I'm going to miss you when you're gone, I think."

"As will I," Teague agreed.

"Well, I would love it if you ever felt the urge to come and visit me there, sir. That goes for all of you," she clarified, gaze sweeping over to Jack and Elizabeth as well.

"Much obliged for the invitation, Auntie," Jack replied. "I just don't think any of us will be able to take ye up on it, being as we're all three of us known, wanted pirates."

"Perhaps we could work something out," Agatha said. "I am close friends with both the governor and the fort commander."

"Who are they, these days?" Teague asked in a noticeably breezy tone of voice.

Agatha gave him a sharp look, but he cut his eyes toward Jack and then looked back at Agatha and widened them. He looked, for a moment, as innocent as a retired pirate who scares Pirate Lords the world over can possibly look.

Jack noticed the look and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Agatha's lips twitched as she answered. "The governor is Mark Anderson, a very kind young man who just moved there with his new bride. The commander of the fort is Commodore Eustace Gilbert."

"Eustace Gilbert, eh?" Teague was genuinely interested. "Older fellow? Lots of white hair, voice like a foghorn, and he never rolls up his sleeves?"

"Yes, that's he. Do you know him, Edw—er, Captain?"

Jack gave her a sharp look at her slip, but Elizabeth didn't seem to notice. Neither did Teague, as he was starting to chuckle.

"Know him? Aye, I know Ace Gilbert well enough. He was me first mate for seventeen years on my _Troubadour_."

"Commodore Gilbert was a pirate?"

"Pirate as they come. Branded even, like Jacky, here. Good man, though. Glad he's been able to cross over."

"Cross over?"

"To respectability, he means," Jack clarified.

"Is that generally a desirable thing for a pirate?" Agatha wanted to know.

"Depends on the individual," Teague said thoughtfully, "but when a pirate reaches a certain age, he often wishes to minimize his lawbreaking and regain the comforts and appearance of respectability."

"Aye," Jack agreed. "Bein' on the run for more'n a decade or two can wear on a man."

Agatha gave Teague a significant look. He gave her an assenting blink and the tiniest of nods.

She changed the subject. "Have you given any thought as to where you might marry?"

"Well, we could have any of these captains marry us," Elizabeth suggested. "We'd just have to make sure it was his own ship this time."

Jack shook his head. "And here I thought you'd learned your lesson about being married by a pirate." He tsked at her a few times.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Not sure. Clergymen are a bit thin on the ground in a pirate town like Shipwreck."

Agatha spoke up. "I have a suggestion, if I may."

"Suggest away, dear," Jack invited.

"Get married in Port Royale when you're bringing me back."

Jack shook his head. "Auntie, I just told you. We're not welcome there. Or we will be welcomed, but only with a noose. Having been to the gallows once before, I'm not overly eager to repeat the experience. Especially as I wouldn't be going alone this time," he said, taking Elizabeth's hand and giving her a significant look. "It was only luck and good planning that didn't get us caught when we picked you up."

Agatha exchanged significant glances with Captain Teague. He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. He rose and left the room.


	60. An Intriguing Offer

Agatha took a deep breath. "Jack, your father and I have been in contact with the governor of Port Royale. Governor Anderson is a good friend of mine. I wrote to him on Elizabeth's behalf, to see about getting her pardoned. As an afterthought, I mentioned you, and the work you did bringing help to New Flimwell. Did you know that most of the settlers there actually came from Jamaica? That whole settlement was essentially planted there by Port Royale. Governor Anderson feels a proprietary interest in it."

"That's why there were navy ships passing by so often!" Jack exclaimed in realization. "I did think that a mite peculiar, considering what a piddly little place it was."

"Yes, well, the governor thinks it rather more important than you do. He was quite pleased with Mayor Quimby's reports of the men you brought to assist. He said they are not young men, but they adventurous and strong, well able to defend the settlement against any future pirate attacks, and very much the sort of men that settlement needs."

Jack laughed incredulously.

"Who did you bring, anyway?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Few old sea dogs who were tired of sailing," Jack replied. "I asked around here a little, and—well, love, it's a pirate town. Got to be on your guard to live here year-round. Some of me old mates who originally thought to retire here have since discovered that it's a little too rough and noisy for them. So I brought 'em to Flimwell, figuring they couldn't get into too much trouble with only twenty settlers left." He looked at Agatha. "So they're doing well there, eh? Good to know!"

"They are, and the governor is _quite_ pleased with you for it," she replied. "He'll be even more so when he learns that the perpetrator of the attack has been imprisoned and that you've also captured her entire fleet.

"With Captain Teague's full knowledge and consent, I outlined your circumstances to the governor. I did not mention you or your father by name, of course, until after I had obtained a written guarantee of amnesty from the governor for both of you. He was quite sympathetic, and gave it freely. Your father has the letter, if you'd like to see. Anyway, the governor has made the three of you an offer that may interest you."

"What sort of offer?" asked Jack, scowling with suspicion.

"He is willing to issue you full pardon on behalf of the crown as a reward for your assistance at New Flimwell. There are certain other employment opportunities that are also open to you."

Jack's expression was a mixture of shock and suspicion. "Let's hear 'em."

"Providing continued material assistance to New Flimwell, shipping goods and cargo and so forth. Transporting new settlers as necessary. Defending the town against any future pirate attacks."

"Easily done. What are the others?"

"Employment as an English privateer is always an option, and the governor wished me to assure you that this time, his offer has absolutely no connection in any way with the East India Company."

"Good to know," Jack said, relieved. "And?"

"The last one would involve working in your father's employ. You see, _his_ pardon is conditional. He can be pardoned as well, but only if he agrees to use his influence in the pirate community to protect Port Royale from any and all pirate attacks for a period of fifteen years. If you are willing to work in his employ to see it done, the governor is prepared to fully recompense you for your efforts. Also, you would be required to perform the same service if your father was not able to fulfill the requirements of the position."

"Why wouldn't he fulfill the requirements?" Jack asked, puzzled.

Agatha looked away. "The governor felt there was a chance that your father's age might possibly lead to infirmity at some point before the fifteen years was up."

Elizabeth laughed, thinking of the incredible power behind Teague's blows when they had sparred. "Captain Teague? Infirmity? Ha!"

Jack agreed. "He's never met me dad, has he? Couldn't kill that man with an axe. And plenty of folks have tried!" He turned pensive. "Fifteen years, eh?" he mused. "This doesn't mean I'd be stuck on land that whole time, surely?"

"'Course not," Teague replied, entering with two leather folders in his hand. "Think I'd negotiate any deal for us that had that sort of proviso? Here," he said, tossing one folder to Jack. "See for yourself."

"What about me?" Elizabeth asked. "Am I included in this deal somehow, Aunt?"

Agatha smiled. "In a way, yes."

Jack, reading through the letter, started to laugh. He looked up at Agatha with a light of admiration in his eyes that bordered on hero-worship. "Auntie, you are a sly one!" he said. "So that's what you meant when you said this made things easier!"

"She is," Teague agreed. "That part was her idea."

"What part?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack handed her the letter. "The part that mentions you."

Elizabeth took it and scanned the contents. "Wait," she said. "_'Full pardon shall be issued to sometime pirate known as Jack Sparrow and to his wife, Elizabeth Swann Sparrow… such pardon to be rescinded if the persons mentioned above be _not_ joined in Holy Matrimony by the twentieth of August…'_ Aunt, what is this? When did you do this?"

"Oh, weeks ago. The captain and I are quite relieved that you announced your engagement first."

Elizabeth gasped. "You were going to force me to marry Jack?"

"No, no, dear. I was going to force Jack to marry you. But only if you both accepted the pardon."

"Oh, come now, darling, it's not as if we didn't just announce our plans to marry anyway," Jack said, nudging Elizabeth. "Or are you planning to change your mind now that you know it's what your auntie's been angling for?" Jack's tone was light, but his eyes were serious.

Elizabeth said nothing. Thunderclouds gathered on her brow.

Jack took a breath and asked, "Are you really so stubborn that you'd marry me in the face of her displeasure but not her approval?"

"What? No, of course not. I want to marry you! I just dislike being manipulated."

Elizabeth stared in surprise as Jack, Teague, and Agatha all started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

Jack started to tell her, but then started laughing again. It was Teague who told her with a huge grin, "If you dislike being manipulated, Miss Liz, then you may want to re-think your choice of groom."

She whirled to face Jack, surprise on her face. He grinned at her, still chuckling, as he spread out his hands in a "here I am!" gesture.

"You know me, darling," he said with a fatalistic but good-humored shrug, "And I'm not likely to change. Take me or leave me."

Elizabeth gave him a long, considering look. They were right, of course: Jack was a manipulative trickster. She knew that and loved him, loved the way he always kept her on her toes. She just hadn't expected that sort of behavior from her aunt!

"Well," she said, "When I did leave you, it didn't do any good. You just came after me and brought me back to life again. So I guess I'll take you—preferably as soon as possible."

Teague coughed to hide his chuckle, and Agatha turned away to studiously examine the portrait on the wall, pretending she hadn't heard. Jack gave Elizabeth one of those dark, intense looks of his that made her pulse speed up.

"Yes," was all he said, but his tone of voice had that raw-silk smoothness that made her shiver.

"I think I need to go for a walk," Agatha announced, fanning herself surreptitiously. She hurried for the door and they heard her muffled "Oh, my!" from the hallway as she left.

"I've—I've got some things need seein' to," Teague excused himself and left the room with a quiet snicker.

Elizabeth and Jack exchanged mildly embarrassed glances. Jack shrugged off his embarrassment in record time as he went over to Elizabeth and slid his arms around her waist. She hugged him back, and they just stood in silence together for a moment.


	61. I'll Hold You in my Heart

In the silence after Teague and Agatha left, the faint, rhythmic pounding noise that Jack had heard that morning when he woke up on the divan suddenly became more noticeable. Jack cocked his head and listened. He released Elizabeth without a word and started walking around the room, stopping here and there to listen. It sounded like a heartbeat, but when he checked it against his pulse, the rhythms were different.

He shook his head. "I'm cracking up," he muttered to himself.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, obviously mystified by his behavior.

He told her about the noise, how it had been following him since the previous evening. "Can't tell where it's coming from, either—it never gets any closer or farther away. I'm either going barmy or I have two heartbeats."

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Oh!" She started to smile. "I think I may know what's causing it. Come up to my room and I'll show you."

"Haven't been invited up to a lady's room in some time," Jack teased, "And certainly never _yours_!"

"Yes, well, don't get your hopes up," Elizabeth replied with a grin as they went out into the hall. "Or anything else, either."

"What a naughty little mind you do have!" Jack said appreciatively as they mounted the stairs together.

Elizabeth gave him a dirty look, which was belied by her taking his hand as she opened her bedroom door. "Come over here, and I'll show you what I meant."

She bent over next to her dresser, touching the handle but not pulling it out. As he eyed her bent-over figure, Jack mused that her naughty mind wasn't the only thing he appreciated.

She turned her head. "Well, come on! Close your eyes and tell me if this sounds familiar."

Jack joined her, kneeling on the floor next to the dresser. He closed his eyes and listened. "That's it!" he exclaimed as the faint, pulsing pounding suddenly seemed to surround him. "What the devil is it?" he asked, opening his eyes.

Elizabeth had pulled open the drawer that held the chest with Will's heart in it. Lying across the top of the chest was Angelica's little voodoo doll of Jack. Elizabeth picked it up and cradled it in her hands. "I didn't know what else to do with it, yesterday when your father brought me back here thinking you were dead. I never wanted anyone else to get hold of it, so it put it in the safest place I could think of.

Jack grinned. "I rather liked where you put it before that," referring to when she had stuffed it down her shirt.

"Yes, well," Elizabeth huffed. "I couldn't keep it there forever, now, could I?"

"I wouldn't mind it," Jack assured her as they went back downstairs. "But I'd be a lot happier if we could just break its power somehow."

"As would I. In the meantime, it can stay with Will and be safe."

"Not for long, I hope," Jack said. "I mean, it's soothin' an' all, but at the end of the day, Will's heartbeat is _not_ the one I want to have lulling me to sleep!"

Elizabeth laughed. "I suppose I can understand that!"

They went back into the sitting room and she perched in one of the armchairs. Constitutionally unable to sit still for long, Jack walked around a little, fiddling with Teague's seashells and other decorations on the mantle.

"What do you think about Governor Anderson's offer?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack took a long time before responding. "There was a time," he said slowly, "Not so long ago, when I would think any pirate a sell-out for even considering such an offer. Something Barbossa told me on our way to the Fountain kind of changed the way I thought about it, though."

He whirled to face her, holding up one finger to make his point. "Don't get me wrong, love—I _do_ think Barbossa had stooped, when he agreed to work for King George. Changed his speech, wore a wig, and everything. But he mentioned that the world is smaller now. Our time has almost run out. Mind you, Barbossa's a lot older than I am so he has less time than I do… but all the same, even Captain Jack Sparrow isn't as young as he used to be. If I'm suddenly turning into a family man, getting married to a lady with a baby and all, can I afford to remain a pirate? Combined with what Teague was saying about retired pirates wanting to return to civilization—well, it bears some thinking about."

Elizabeth nodded. "That's the same thing Will told me, when I talked with him in your cabin that first time. He was worried about you. Said piracy is getting much more dangerous these days, and if you were going to be a part of our lives long-term, we should find some way to make you respectable again."

"Will said that?" Jack asked in surprise.

"He did. I promised him I would try. Little did I know how unnecessary my promise would be, with my aunt already working toward the same goal!"

"We'll still be married, pardon or no," Jack said. "What's your thought on the matter?"

"I still don't like feeling manipulated into marrying you, but since I was going to marry you anyway, I'd like to accept it." She looked away, looking a little wistful. "I rather miss Port Royale. I had some friends there, once upon a time."

"I'm leanin' that direction meself," Jack admitted. He sighed and shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"I'll tell you one thing, though, Jack me lad," Elizabeth said sternly. "I will _not_ be going back to wearing skirts and corsets all the time, no matter what you say. Count on that!"

Jack chuckled at how easily she had slipped into pirate-speech. "Wouldn't dream of askin' ye to, darling." He sat down on the divan opposite her and leaned forward to take her hand in one of his.

He put on an earnest expression as he continued, "Now that I've seen how the trousers show off your, ah—" he waved one hand in the general direction of where she was sitting, "bountiful charms, I'm perfectly all right with you wearin' 'em whenever you wish."

Elizabeth gasped and smacked his gesturing hand. "You are so incredibly, offensively coarse! Tell me again _why_ I'm marrying you?"

Jack laughed and brought her hand up to his lips. "Because we can't live without each other and you know it. And partially because of my offensive coarseness, I suspect." He kissed her knuckles several times, and then nipped the side of her finger.

She yanked his hand out of her grasp. "Perhaps," was all she said. She cleared her throat. "So we'll be accepting the governor's offer, then?"

Jack shrugged. "Looks that way. I don't mind helpin' the Flimwell folk, but I'm a bit hesitant about working for Teague."

"What about the privateering?"

He shook his head. "Privateerin' is only sanctioned piracy. If I'm givin' up piracy for lawful employment 'cause it's safer, then it doesn't make sense to take up privateerin' as it's the same bleedin' thing."

"Perhaps you could work for your father on a trial basis and see how it goes. If it's only a matter of protecting the city of Port Royale, it shouldn't be that difficult—you might not even see each other that often. But in any case, you'll finally be free."

Jack turned his head and stared at the portrait of his mother on the wall. "Always thought I was free already, as long as I had my _Black Pearl,_" he said after a moment. "Now for the first time I'm facin' the proposition of bein' able to sail into any port and not fear the cannons, the navy, the militia, nor the gallows. Bein' able to buy and sell goods openly instead of only to black-market buyers. Not that smuggling isn't fun, 'cause it is, but the market's a bit limited, as it were."

"You'll still have the _Black Pearl_," Elizabeth pointed out. "You'll still be Captain Jack Sparrow."

"And I'll still have me treasures," Jack said, sitting back with a smile.

"Oh, that's right! We still have to take care of what Will gave me."

"Aye, there's that… but not all treasure is silver and gold, sweetheart." He stood up and bent to press a quick kiss to her lips. "Well, now that we have the rest of our lives straightened out," Jack said humorously and with only a little sarcasm, "we still have an important task to complete this afternoon."


	62. Disposing of Angelica with a Will

Jack went to the window and gazed out into the late afternoon sun.

Admiring the fall of sunlight across his face that gave his short black hair reddish highlights, Elizabeth rose and went to him. "What do we have to do?" she asked as she snuck her arms around his waist from behind. She gently bit the back of his neck and then kissed it, sucking gently on the bitten spot.

He stiffened and gasped, clutching at her hands on his waist as goose bumps rose on his neck and arms.

"All right, that's it," he growled, turning around. "You, young lady, are begging for trouble." He gripped both her hands in his and then put his arms around her so she ended up pressed against him with her hands held behind her back.

He kissed her neck several times, ran his tongue around the edge of her ear and nipped the lobe with his teeth. His mouth traveled down her neck to her shoulder, and Elizabeth—with his hands holding hers firmly behind her back—was powerless. She shivered.

"You look," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling and making her shiver, "like the loveliest figurehead in the world, my darling."

She struggled against his hold and he released her. She locked her arms around his neck and answered his rapacious kisses with her own. He held her even tighter against his wiry frame, swallowing her moans with his mouth.

"Now, now, Miss Liz," came Teague's rumbly voice from the doorway, where neither of them had heard him open the door. "How about you unhand my son for a little while, eh? No need to be anticipatin' yer wedding night—it'll come soon enough."

Jack and Elizabeth broke apart guiltily when Teague first started speaking. At his last remark, Jack glowered. "That is entirely a matter of opinion," he growled. "And I don't share yours."

Teague smirked. "Nevertheless, it is my house, and I'm not in _that_ much of a hurry for grandchildren, so reef yer sails, the both of you."

Elizabeth giggled, a little embarrassed. "Well, he didn't say 'drop anchor,'" she pointed out quietly to Jack.

"Mrs Ainsley-Swann is on her way back up here from her walk," Teague informed them.

"Drop anchor," Jack advised Elizabeth instantly, with a grimace of dread.

He pulled her down to sit next to him on the divan. "We still need to figure out what to do about Angelica, anyway. She's still cluttering up my lovely _Pearl._"

"Any ideas, short of killing her?" Elizabeth asked.

Teague, seeing them engaged in respectable conversation instead of amorous pursuits, nodded. "Better," he mumbled to himself as he backed out of the room but pointedly left the door open.

"I'm sorely tempted to reunite her with her father," Jack replied grimly.

"Blackbeard? But he's dead. I thought you didn't want to kill her?"

"No more I do, but her father's on the _Flying Dutchman_."

"With Will? How did that happen, if he died inland?"

"Not sure, exactly. Something to do with the way he was killed—it's more mystical mumbo-jumbo. Will has him working as his cabin boy."

"That's interesting," Elizabeth mused. "So he _can_ bring the dead back to life?"

"Only if they want to serve as crew aboard the _Dutchman,_ and it isn't really life, as I understand it. More like undead—you know, the way you were, on that ship—before Calypso gave you that little spark of life."

"But can he employ the living? Like Angelica?"

"No idea," Jack said, shaking his head. "If he can, that would keep her out of trouble for a century or so."

"Only problem is, I'd hate to saddle Will with her. Somehow I doubt they'd get on together," Elizabeth said.

Jack, who could often let moments to do the right thing pass him by with a cheerful wave, apparently did not do the same with opportunities to tease Elizabeth. "I don't know about that," he said. "Will and I have been known to have our tastes in women overlap."

Elizabeth gave him a humorless look. "Just because you both like _me_ doesn't mean it would be the same for every woman, Jack."

"Oh, not _just_ you, darling, although you are of course the best example. I was talking of Calypso."

"What?" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Surely you knew about that, love? You were right there, at World's End, when she mentioned it to me."

"I—she—I don't think I heard _that!_ At World's End I was too concerned with rescuing you and hoping you'd forgive me for what I did. I never thought—you mean _you?_ And _Calypso?_"

"Aye. I thought you knew."

"_Recently?_"

"Oh, no, years and years ago."

"But I thought—Davy Jones and Calypso—what—"

"Davy Jones didn't stay true to the purpose she gave him, and went meddling in the black arts—putting a _geas_ on his heart, for instance, which is what requires the person who stabs it to replace it with his own. _She_ wasn't faithful to _him_, either, as evidenced by her little…dalliance… with me a long time ago."

"You mean you stole _Davy Jones'_ woman?"

"Aye. For a little while, anyway."

"Were _you_ the reason she wasn't there to meet him when he went ashore?"

Jack said nothing, and cast his gaze down to the side like a naughty child.

Elizabeth looked at him, open-mouthed, and shook her head slowly. "I swear, Jack Sparrow, if there's trouble anywhere in the world, you'll find it. What in heaven's name am I going to do with you?"

"Marry me, love, and as soon as possible. That way you'll always be around to get me back _out_ of the trouble. But we were talking of Angelica. Think Will would be willing to take her on board?"

"I'm not sure. He may have limitations on his powers that we don't know about."

"Well, we can ask him," Jack said. "Not sure how to get him to agree, though."

Elizabeth's face took on a crafty smile.

Jack backed away a step. "I know that look, sweetheart. I'm afraid of it. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, I have an idea about something that may sweeten the deal."

"Oh?"

"Jacob. We could bring my son on board so that his father can meet him without having to wait another eight years."

Jack sat back. "Huh. Don't know why I didn't think of that before."

"You may have had one or two other things on your mind in recent months," Elizabeth pointed out.

"'Struth, I have. But I'd really like to unload one of them onto him, if I can!"

Elizabeth laughed.

Jack gave her a quizzical look. "I'm surprised at you, love. Using your own son as leverage to make a deal with your former husband?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Pirate!" was all she said.

Jack grinned. "Told you so!" he crowed, pointing at her.

Agatha was overjoyed to hear, when she returned from her walk, that Jack and Elizabeth had decided to accept the governor's offer.

"That is wonderful, my dears!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it will be so nice to be able to see you, and to be able to watch my grand-nephew grow up! And perhaps have some more grand-nieces and nephews as well, hmm?"

Elizabeth giggled, a little embarrassed. "Captain Teague says he's not in a hurry for grandchildren, Aunt."

Agatha gave her a sly look. "He may _say_ that, my dear."

"Well, if stepchildren count, he'll already have one," Elizabeth pointed out. She grinned at the thought. "Had you thought about that yet, Jack? You'll be a stepfather!"

Jack's alarmed expression said it all, but he recovered quickly and turned the tables on her. "And have you thought about the fact that you'll be letting a lifelong pirate raise your son? A thief and a swindler, who is absolutely _nothing_ like the child's father?"

Elizabeth's grin faded.

"A-ha!" Jack laughed. "Not so cocky now, are you?" He turned to Agatha. "Or you, I'll wager!"

"Oh, I'm not worried," Agatha assured him. "I have faith in you."

"Faith enough to let your niece marry me?" Jack teased. "A known, notorious—I might even go so far as to say famous—pirate?

"My niece knows her own mind, Jack. And I ask you, as someone who's known her for years: have you ever tried to talk her out of doing something she's set on?"

Jack grinned. "Point taken, Auntie. And glad you approve."

"Aunt Agatha, I must say, I'm rather surprised that you do," Elizabeth said. "I didn't think you would be so happy for your niece, the governor's daughter, becoming affianced to a pirate!"

"Eliza dear, the man obviously loves you more than anything, and the two of you do seem well-matched. And to be honest, our little sojourn here in 'Pirate Cove' has opened my eyes a little bit. Jack is a pirate, but he is a good man who makes you happy, and who will go to any lengths to take care of you. I couldn't ask for more." Agatha's eyes started to twinkle. "Most importantly, this isn't just _any_ old pirate you're going to marry, dear."

"He isn't?" Elizabeth queried.

"Of course not. This is Captain Jack Sparrow!" Agatha boasted.

Jack's face lit up. "Finally!" he crowed. "Someone gets it right!"


	63. How do you Solve a Problem like Angelica

Elizabeth told her aunt not to wait up, that they had some loose ends to tie up after the battle. It was late enough she thought she and Jacob might as well sleep right there on the _Pearl._ She carried her son in the longboat, but it was already getting late and he fell asleep in her arms before they even arrived at the _Pearl._

"Here, let me carry him up," Jack offered. He propped the baby over one shoulder and climbed the ladder one-handed. Elizabeth followed, more slowly, as she was also carrying the chest containing Will's heart. To Jack's amused delight, she had stuffed his voodoo doll down her shirt again.

"Evening, Cotton," Jack greeted the older man who was on watch. "All well?"

Cotton nodded, and smiled at the sleeping baby.

"Good." Jack handed Jacob to Elizabeth. "Here, ye can put him into his little bed in me cabin if you wish. I just have to call Will out here first."

"All right." Elizabeth brought Jacob into the captain's cabin. She laid the baby down on Jack's bed while she pulled out the bottom drawer of the dresser where Jacob had slept before, and folded up a blanket for the bottom of it. She bent and placed the baby into the drawer. "Well, you're not going to fit in there much longer," she said to the sleeping baby. "However, for tonight it ought to be well enough. It'll be just like old times, won't it? But healthy this time, thank the Lord!"

Jack came in looking smug. "Got him all settled, love?"

"Yes, though he won't fit into your dresser drawer much longer!"

Jack shrugged. "So we'll get a cot. Maybe put it over there under the window, like you used to have yours in Flimwell." He lit a lantern to offset the gathering gloom and hung it up in the center of the cabin.

Elizabeth smiled. It was still so strange to hear Jack talk about things like that. It reinforced the permanent nature of their future associations. "Did you have any trouble calling Will?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not a bit. Think the little blighter's starting to like it."

"Will?"

"No, Pigeon."

Elizabeth gave him a strange look, but did not ask. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what Jack was talking about. "How long does it usually take Will to arrive?"

Jack shrugged again. "Five minutes. An hour. Two. Half a day."

"It varies, in other words."

"Didn't I just say that?" Jack asked innocently.

Elizabeth made an exasperated noise in her throat and stalked past him. "I don't know why I put up with you," she muttered.

Jack caught her arm as she passed, and drew her close to him. "It's all due to my wit, charm, and handsome face," he informed her.

As an afterthought, he added, "That and the fact that I love you more than life. Now come and give us a kiss, sweetheart."

How could Elizabeth resist him when he said things like that? She melted into his arms and met his lips with her own.

Several enjoyable minutes passed in this fashion, until suddenly they heard a voice say in disgust, "Oh, I could have done without seeing this. Really I could."

It was Will.

Jack took his time ending the kiss, and he rested his cheek on Elizabeth's hair as he glared at Will. "So knock next time."

"I didn't figure you'd be doing anything requiring much privacy, after that little talk we had," Will retorted.

"And yet, here we are," Jack taunted. "Matter of fact, we were just celebratin' our engagement."

"Congratulations," Will said, looking as if he had just bitten a lemon. "Haven't wasted much time, have you? So did you call me because you actually needed something, or just to gloat?"

Jack grinned and opened his mouth to taunt Will again, but Elizabeth interrupted.

"All right, that's enough! Both of you!" she spoke with schoolteacher-like firmness. "Jack, stop gloating and be a good host. Will, a polite guest _does_ knock before materializing in someone's cabin. Make sure you do that next time."

Jack watched, amused, as she took control of the charged situation. "All right, love," he said. "Thanks for coming, Will. Drink?"

"Brought my own," Will said, conjuring a bottle from thin air like he had done before. "Thanks anyway. So what am I doing here this time? You keep on calling me, but never have anyone dead for me. I do have a job to do, you know."

"Well… we have a favor to ask," Elizabeth said.

"A favor? From me?" Will pulled out a chair at Jack's dining table as if he lived there, sat down and steepled his fingers in front of himself like a judge. "This I have to hear. What, pray, may I do for the two of you?"

"Take Angelica Teach on board your vessel," Jack said. "She's here on the _Pearl,_ in the brig." He and Elizabeth both sat down facing Will.

"She isn't dead," Will pointed out. "I'd sense it if she were."

"No, and she isn't likely to be for more than a century," Jack said. "She drank from the Fountain of Youth, so she has endless years to come after us and try to kill us again and again… and again."

"If she's alive I can't take her on board the _Dutchman_," Will said. "Not permanently. You know that, Jack. I couldn't have taken you on board either, yesterday."

"She's only alive because she got all of her father's years," Elizabeth said, "And Jack tells me he's aboard the _Dutchman_."

"Aye, he is, but he's already dead." Will hesitated a moment, and then went on. "If she somehow died on the water, then I could take her." He avoided Elizabeth's gaze.

Jack grimaced. "I know she's a rabid bitch, but I don't particularly want to kill her in cold blood," he said.

"And I had my chance to kill her yesterday," Elizabeth said, "but I didn't." She sounded faintly regretful.

"Aye," Jack teased her. "You save that sort of thing for your friends and loved ones."

Elizabeth tsked and cuffed him lightly on the side of the head. Grinning, he caught her hand and kissed it.

Will's face took on a pained expression.

"What, have ye never seen a couple in love before?" Jack taunted.

"Not one that regularly expresses it with violence," Will shot back.

Elizabeth and Jack looked at each other. Then they both raised their eyebrows in a "duh" look at Will and said, with one voice, "Pirate!"

"Oh, God," Will groaned. "You two are going to drive me 'round the bend. All right, as long as we're talking piracy, why should I help you with Miss Teach? What's in it for me?"

"A chance to meet your son," Jack said quietly.

Will's eyebrows shot up. He leaned forward. "When?" he asked, also quietly.

Elizabeth started to speak, but Jack talked over her. "Just as soon as we've taken care of this Angelica infestation of ours."

Will stood up. "She's in the brig, you say?"

Jack nodded.

Will vanished.


	64. The Man who Killed Davy Jones

Startled at Will's sudden disappearance, Jack and Elizabeth looked at each other dumbly for just a split second before racing for the door. They ran downstairs to the hold and arrived outside the brig to see Will just standing there outside the bars looking at Angelica.

Cotton had tended the worst of her cuts and wounds, but he hadn't bothered straightening her nose where Elizabeth had broken it. Angelica had wiped most of the blood off her face, but she was missing a front tooth and had blood matted in her hair and dried onto her skin. There was an empty supper try on the floor and a bucket in the corner.

"Not much to look at, is she, Jack?" Will asked, not turning his head as he studied her. "I would have expected her to look fiercer, or prettier, or something."

"She _was_ prettier before your charming widow got hold of her and smashed her face in with her sword-hilt," Jack told him.

Will grinned. "Did you really?" he asked Elizabeth

She nodded. "As hard as I could," she affirmed.

Will chuckled and looked at Jack. "She's something, isn't she?" he asked proudly.

"Who are you?" Angelica asked Will, rising slowly to her feet.

Suddenly Will's demeanor took on a more menacing air as he stood there, tall, pale, and dressed all in black from bandana to boots. "Not someone you want to cross," he said quietly, taking one step nearer the bars.

Angelica backed up a step.

Jack chuckled. "Oh, Angelica, you poor, misguided little puppy," he said, not without sympathy. "You have no idea who this is? None at all?"

Angelica shook her head, wide-eyed.

"This is the captain of the _Flying_ _Dutchman_," Jack said.

"Th-this is Davy Jones?" Angelica stuttered.

"No," Will replied. He gathered himself for a moment and then stepped _through_ the bars. "I'm the man who _killed_ Davy Jones."

Angelica turned pale and backed up against the outside wall.

"That's not all," Elizabeth spoke up. "It was quite foolish of you to try to kill my baby and me as well, Miss Teach. Foolish even to try to kill Jack. Know why?"

Will leaned down so he got right in her face, and explained in his quietest voice, "My son. My wife. My friend."

Angelica was so pale her lips looked faintly blue in the lantern light. "She—she said she was a widow."

For answer, Will pulled aside his shirt and showed her his scar where his heart had been cut out. "Yes."

Angelica gasped in horror and shrank back into the corner of the brig.

Will advanced on her with slow, threatening steps. "You see, Angelica—I may call you Angelica, mayn't I? Yes? Good. You see, Angelica, my good friends here were just upstairs talking about what to do with you. My beloved wife regrets not killing you yesterday; however, Jack, being the generous soul that he is, wants to give you to me. Only problem is, you're still alive—and will be for a very long time, I hear. The problem is that none of us are like you, willing to just kill someone in cold blood. I want you to understand this very clearly: you're only alive because _we are better than you._

"However, the two of them are going to be getting married and starting a new life. It's very romantic, isn't it? If I can't be her husband because I'm dead, then at least I'll have my friend looking after her. Naturally they don't want you coming round and bothering them again, _ever, _so I thought I'd just come down here and ask you directly: Where should we take you, where you will _never_ trouble my friends or my family, ever again? Don't misunderstand: we _will_ kill you if we have to, and then I'll just take on on board the Dutchman just like any other corpse. I'm generously giving you the chance to come up with an acceptable alternative."

"Do you mean to kill me?" Angelica asked.

"If I do, it will be better than you deserve, from all accounts."

"Me? What did I do?" Angelica demanded, pushing herself off the wall and standing straight, with a defiant tilt of her head.

Elizabeth spoke in a hard voice. "You tried to kill me and my baby based on a mistake, when you misjudged my friendship with Jack. It was completely platonic until well after your attack on Flimwell. I'd thank you for bringing us together, except that it was your murdering 50 innocent settlers that was what did it!"

"_I?_ I murdered no one!" Angelica declared haughtily.

"You ordered it done, which makes you just as responsible as if you had slit their throats yourself!" Elizabeth hissed. "To deny it makes you a hypocrite as well as a murderer!"

Angelica closed her mouth on her own response and just glared.

Will sighed. "Well, this is getting us nowhere. Do you have somewhere to go where you can stay out of trouble, or shall we just kill you here and now?"

Angelica scowled and said nothing.

Will gave Jack a frustrated glance. "And here I thought I had my hands full with her father. He's nothing compared to his spawn!"

"My—my father? He is on the ship of the dead?" Angelica asked in a whisper.

Will glared at her, and then relented enough to answer her question. "He is."

"Can I see him?"

He gave a grim smile, "I really don't think that's a good idea, Angelica. I'm fairly sure you won't recognize him."

"No, please! I beg you! You can kill me if you want to, but I must see my father!"

"I doubt you'll like what you see," Will said. "But I will if you're sure. Let's go back up on deck and I'll call him over."

"Uh, Will—I left the key in my cabin," Jack said.

Will grinned at him. "Jack, when have I ever needed a key to get out of your brig?"

"Aye, but do ye really want to be showing _her_ how to do it?" Jack asked. "I escaped the _Dutchman's_ brig the same way, don't forget."

"Good point. Fine, we'll do it the hard way." Will grabbed Angelica's hand, steeled himself for a moment, and then led her through the bars. "Let's go."


	65. Remorse

When they reached the top deck, Will dropped Angelica's hand. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he told her. He cupped his hand around his mouth and called toward his ship, "Eddie!"

Blackbeard, Edward Teach, the pirate all pirates feared when he was alive, appeared out of the shadows on the deck of the _Pearl_. He looked very different. Gone were all the accoutrements of a captain—hat, coat, sword, pistol, even boots. He appeared barefoot in his shirtsleeves and ragged trousers, and and he was clean-shaven. His fearsome black beard that he'd used to tie smoky fuses into, to terrify his enemies, was gone with no trace. Underneath it, his face looked haggard, worn, and wrinkled. His hair was tied back in a neat tail. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked very old. Every line of his body bespoke obsequiousness and he kept his head down as he touched his bandana and said, "You sent for me, Captain Turner, sir?"

"Yes, Eddie, I did," Will answered. "Your daughter is here and wanted to see you."

Teach's eyes flicked up to see his daughter, and then back down, as if he was embarrassed. He said nothing.

"Father! Father, it is I!" Angelica pleaded. "Father, please! Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you, daughter," Teach replied, still not looking at her. "Captain Turner here was good enough to take me on as cabin boy on his good ship the _Flying Dutchman_, so I'm doing quite well. And how are you?" he asked politely.

Jack's jaw dropped at the politeness and humility of this man, who had turned all his officers into zombies, hung his entire crew in the rigging, burned a man alive, tortured a mermaid, maimed a clergyman, and had tried to save his own life by killing his daughter. He gave Will an incredulous glance.

Will, standing next to him, nudged him with one shoulder. "It's like you told me, before. Death changes one's perspective," he told Jack quietly.

Jack nodded vehemently, eyes wide.

"And technically, _I_ am now Death. I have the power to change one's perspective. So in his case… I regenerated his conscience," Will explained.

Jack grimaced and winced in sympathy. Considering what sort of man Blackbeard had been, that had to hurt.

Angelica said, "Father, I tried to save you. If it hadn't been for Jack, you would still be alive and on your own ship!"

Teach glanced up at her again. "I would have been alive, but at the expense of your own life, daughter. Mine wasn't worth that. If it hadn't been for Captain Sparrow's quick thinking that day, you would be dead. I'm grateful to him. So should you be."

He looked over to Jack, and then dropped his gaze again. He said, "Captain Sparrow, I thank you for my daughter's life."

Jack was quite taken aback, and could only reply with, "You're welcome… Eddie."

Teach nodded humbly.

"That was very good, Eddie," Will complimented. He turned to Angelica. "Now, young lady, you are going to make some apologies as well. You are going to apologize to my wife and to Captain Sparrow for the pain and grief you have caused them."

"I never will apologize!" Angelica hissed angrily.

"I hope, daughter, that you're not too proud to take some advice from your dead father," Edward Teach told her quietly.

"Oh, no, Father!" Angelica replied fervently. "I have always listened to you."

"Then promise me you won't travel the road of violence and pain. Stop being a pirate, if you can. Stop making ill choices. I assure you, Mr. Turner has made me deeply regret the way I led my life. I was wrong. Promise me that you will be a better person than I was!"

He raised his eyes to meet hers, and his gaze showed his pain and guilt. "Please, Angelica. Do what is right, and avoid this agony of remorse that I suffer!" He reached out and brushed the back of his hand down the side of her face, and then looked down again.

Angelica's eyes welled with tears. "Yes, Father. I promise." She looked up at Will again. "Captain Turner?"

"Yes, Angelica?"

"Is it too late for me? Are you going to kill me?"

Will wrinkled his nose. "I'd really rather not."

"Then sent me back to Spain!" Angelica begged. "I will make confession at the convent where I grew up. I will take the veil this time and never leave my convent again! I swear it!"

Will looked at Elizabeth and Jack. Jack nodded. Elizabeth shrugged.

"Fine," Will said, "but you're still going to apologize to Captain Sparrow and Mrs Turner."

Angelica nodded, humbled. "I am very sorry, Mrs. Turner," she said to Elizabeth, "For what I did to you and your friends in Flimwell. I am sorry for trying to attack you and your son. You were absolutely right in what you said to me."

She looked at Jack. "Jack—I am—"

Will interrupted, clearing his throat pointedly. "To 'Captain Sparrow,' I said."

Angelica flushed, but started again. "Captain Sparrow, I am very sorry for trying to kill you in Saint Dominique. And at the Fountain of Youth. Thank you for helping me in Seville, and for saving my life with the mermaids. And at the cliff near Ponce De Leon's ship. And at the Fountain. I apologize for all the grief I have caused you, and Mrs. Turner, and Captain Turner."

"Fine," Elizabeth said.

"Good." Jack was satisfied.

Angelica looked at Jack miserably. "Are you really going to marry her?" she asked, indicating Elizabeth, who stood watching silently.

"Aye, I am," Jack said.

"But why?"

"Mostly because I love her, and she loves me."

Her eyes began to fill with tears. "I always wanted you to marry _me_, Jack. I loved you so!" She took a step closer and looked at him with pleading eyes, welling up with tears.

Jack laughed scornfully. "No, you didn't! You've lied to me, betrayed me, double-crossed me, stolen my identity, press-ganged me, manipulated me, tried to kill me, murdered my lady's best friend in Flimwell (not to mention 48 other settlers besides her), attacked me with a voodoo doll, attacked my lady with a sword, and led an armada against me in my own home waters. If that's your version of love, Angelica, I want no part of it!"

Angelica's jaw dropped at this enumeration of her crimes. Her father sighed and shook his head. "Angelica..." Teach said sadly. "Oh, daughter!"

Jack cocked his head for a moment, thinking. Then he went on. "You know, forget what I said before, about your sister and the dog. Let me put it this way. I have been eaten by a giant kraken with a thousand teeth, suffered agonies you couldn't even imagine in your worse nightmares. Given the choice between that and marrying you, I'd take the kraken again any day of the week. And twice on Sundays," he added as an afterthought.

Angelica looked from Jack to her father. His obvious disappointment and heartbreak over her criminal career affected her, and her chin wobbled for a moment while she tried not to cry. She looked back up at Will. "Captain Turner? The convent, sir?"

"Very well," Will said. "I will take you back to your convent in Spain, on the condition that you never leave it." Will held out one hand in a closed fist, concentrating for a moment, and then he opened his fist. In it lay a tiny vial on a chain.

"This vial contains seawater from the bitter sea at World's End—or, as I'm sure it will come to be known, 'Will Turner's Locker'," he said with a half-smile.

Jack stifled a chuckle.

Will slipped the chain over Angelica's head. "You will keep this on for the remainder of your natural life. If you ever take it off, I will know. If you ever try to hurt another innocent person, I will know. If you ever have any dealings with Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth, my son Jacob, or any children they may have together in the future—I will know. Once you have taken your vows, you will never leave your convent again for the rest of your natural life. If you do, I will know."

Jack grimaced and reminded him, "Uh, Will… I did make her drink from the Fountain of Youth. 'S a hell of a long time to stay inside a convent."

Will relented. "I did say you would spend the rest of your _natural _life there. When you have spent a natural lifetime there, if you would like a natural death, just break the vial and I will come get you and you will be reunited with your father."

"What if it breaks on its own?" she asked.

"It won't break until you break it with intent. Now that we have a true destination, I can take you to Spain on the _Dutchman_. Eddie, take her back to the ship," Will ordered.

Teach touched the edge of his bandana, and then he touched Angelica's shackles and they dropped free. He took her arm and the two of them disappeared.

"I hope she can find some healing in that convent," Elizabeth said.

"I hope she's not beyond it," Jack added cynically. He looked regretful.


	66. Father and Son

Elizabeth looked up suddenly, startled, at a sound that only she could hear, and hurried into Jack's cabin. Will gave Jack a puzzled look. Jack smiled. "Think she's arrangin' your payment even as we speak," he said.

"My… my payment?" Will asked. Then he remembered. "Oh! Seeing my son!" His face lit up. "Is he—can we—you mean here? Now? On board the _Pearl_?"

Jack grinned. "Here. Now. On board the _Pearl._"

He led Will into his cabin, but both men stopped short at the sight of Elizabeth sitting on the bed, nursing her baby.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed. "Sorry, love. Didn't know you were—" He waved his hands in her general direction. "—Occupied."

Will was transfixed. He stared, open-mouthed, at them.

"Oh, er," Elizabeth said, face blazing. "He just woke up a little fractious and I thought it might calm him."

"That," Will said, pausing to swallow, "has to be the most beautiful sight I've ever seen in my life."

"Aye," Jack agreed. "Much prettier now that neither of 'em is dying, I can tell you!"

Elizabeth grabbed up Jack's coat, which he had slung across the bed earlier, and used it to cover herself up. "Yes, we were neither of us at our best then, were we?"

"Well, ye both lived through it, which is the most important part."

"Yes, thanks to you."

Will blinked, finally, and turned away.

"Meant to thank you, Will, for what you said down there," Jack said, "'bout me and 'Lizabeth being engaged now. Really showed ol' what's-her-face we're all on the same team, eh?"

"Yes, well, I figured it was best to show solidarity before enemies," Will said, prowling around the cabin. "She didn't need to know all the ways I'll kill you if you hurt Elizabeth."

"Excuse me!" Elizabeth said, stung. "If anyone hurts me, I should think I'd have first dibs at killing him!"

"Aye, and she's had practice with me," Jack pointed out. "Quite good at it. Succeeded on her first try."

"Yes, I did!" she rejoined. "But Will—seriously, thank you for supporting us in this matter. It means a lot."

"Well, you mean a lot to me, too," Will replied with a smile. Grudgingly, he gestured toward Jack. "Both of you, really, even though I can't stand Jack half the time."

"Thank you!" was Jack's hearty reply. He looked genuinely pleased. "Feeling's entirely mutual!"

He looked in Elizabeth's direction and started to laugh. Will looked and grinned. Elizabeth, puzzled, looked down at her baby.

Jacob, apparently unsatisfied with being covered up by Jack's coat when there were things to see, had stealthily inched it down until he could see again. He was still suckling, but his two dark eyes were open and looking about the room with great interest. Meanwhile, he had uncovered Elizabeth's entire breast.

Elizabeth started to laugh as well. "I did think it felt a bit drafty!" She pulled the coat over herself again, but Jacob grabbed it and pulled it back down. "Wicked child," she said fondly, trying fruitlessly to cover herself up again.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jack said. "Seems like quite a thoughtful and generous little lad. Eh, Will?"

"Mmm," Will agreed. "Seems more than willing to share his good fortune!"

"All right, you two, that's enough," Elizabeth said. Then she looked down at her son. She gently disengaged the baby's mouth. "If you're going to be looking about instead of eating, you don't need to still be attached, young man. I'm not made of rubber, you know!"

She moved the baby aside and buttoned up her shirt again. She looked up with a smile. "Will? Would you like to hold him?"

"Me?" Will asked nervously.

"Aye, it's easy. Like this," Jack directed, scooping the baby up off the bed. "He likes to be held upright," he explained, holding the baby against his chest so Jacob could see over his shoulder.

"Don't be afraid," he went on, handing Jacob to Will. "They're a lot more durable than you think, babies. Rubber bones, ye know."

Will took the child gingerly, and then held him with increasing confidence. He went over and turned up the lantern so he could see him better.

Jack and Elizabeth exchanged nostalgic smiles. "You did that too, every time you visited me!" she reminded him.

"Well, he kept on changing!" Jack said. "Never looked the same from one full moon to the next."

Will looked up, eyes shining. "I hadn't thought it would be possible to meet him before my ten years are up, but I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

"We'll still be there to meet you at your next landfall, if you want," Elizabeth offered.

"Aye, but it won't be like your last one," Jack warned sternly. "She'll be my wife next time, not yours!"

Will grinned and turned the lantern up even higher, so he could see the baby's face more clearly.

"Elizabeth, he's beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Jack was right. He does look just like you!"

"Oh, there's a little of you in there as well," Elizabeth said. "More in the expressions than the features. He'll be a very handsome man when he grows up, I think."

"Oh, no question," Will agreed. "Were his eyes blue at first?" he asked. "My mother once told me that mine were, and then darkened later."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Brown since birth," she said. "Just like mine."

"Lucky child," Jack said. "You two for parents and he's fortunate enough to take after the good-looking one!"

"Jack!" Elizabeth protested as Will chuckled.

"At least this way he has a fighting chance of being as handsome as _our_ children will be," Jack continued. "No fear of his going all tentacle-y like his pop probably will."

Elizabeth and Will exchanged amused, eye-rolling glances, but neither one bothered to respond. It was obvious that they both agreed: sometimes it was best to simply let Jack be Jack.


	67. Calypso's Power

Will was silent for a moment, just studying Jacob's face. Jacob was staring at him just as seriously.

"Elizabeth, will you do something for me?" Will asked.

"If I can. What?"

"Try to keep Jacob away from the sea as much as possible as he's growing up."

"Why's that, mate?" Jack asked. "Going to be a bit hard. Sea's in his blood."

"I know, but… I suspect he may have a better chance of actually growing up if he _doesn't_ become a sailor."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

"He mean because of me," announced Calypso as she coalesced in the shadows. "De danger come from me."

Will whirled to face her. "You did threaten his life only yesterday," he said in a hard voice. "If it hadn't been for Jack's sacrifice, you would have had me transporting my own infant son to World's End!" He held Jacob up and kissed the little head before handing his son back to Jack.

"I am de sea," Calypso said with a shrug. "De sea not picky 'bout who she takes. Like I tol' you las' night—it my nature, my William."

"Your heartless, goddess nature, perhaps. But what about your human nature?" Will asked. "Jack reminded you of it only yesterday."

"Me not human no more," she said smugly.

"Pity," Jack interjected. "I liked you better when you were."

The _Pearl_ rolled suddenly, and Jack stumbled. He gave Calypso an exasperated look. "Was that really necessary?"

"You need remindin' dat you here at my sufferance," she said grandly. The wind picked up and the ship started pitching more violently as she spoke. "I am de sea. I can take any of you, any time I want. I can wipe out whole villages, cities, islands. I can erase what's lef' of de New Flimwell village. An' yes," she finished, with a look that swept from Elizabeth to Will and lingered there, "I can take your child if I wan'. An' dere is nuttin' you can do about it. I am de sea!"

A giant clap of thunder accompanied her final pronouncement, and the _Black Pearl_ rolled starboard so hard the rest of them nearly fell over. Jack held Jacob firmly in one hand and gripped the table with the other, dodging the chairs as two of them crashed to the deck.

The ship righted itself and the seas calmed. Calypso folded her arms and stared down her nose at the others.

A silence fell.

It was broken by the sound of Elizabeth slowly walking forward until she was arms' length away from Calypso. She stepped in front of Jack and Jacob, so that she stood between the goddess and the baby. She gave the goddess a long look, and then opened her mouth and started to sing.

"_The king and **her** men stole the queen from her bed_

_And bound her in her bones…"_

That was all she sang, but the message was unmistakably clear.

Calypso went pale. Her usual cocoa-colored face went a mottled, greenish, spoiled-coffee color. "You wouldn't dare!" she gasped.

Elizabeth smiled a little, and went on singing.

"_The seas be ours and by the powers_

_Where we will, we'll roam!_"

Calypso raised a trembling hand, pointing at Elizabeth's chest.

"Me start yo' heart yesterday. Me can stop it again right now!"

"I name William Turner, Junior, as my heir to the pirate lordship of the South China Seas," Elizabeth announced, "And I name Jack Sparrow heir to the kingship."

She raised her eyebrows at Calypso. "There, now. If you kill me, Will and Jack will summon the rest of the pirate lords to bind you in human form again—this time, forever. So let's not do anything rash, shall we?"

Elizabeth reached out, very slowly, and wrapped her fingers gently around Calypso's hand with its pointing finger, slowly bringing it down between them. She spoke more quietly. "Please, Tia Dalma, you have helped us so much, and there was a time, not so long ago, when you and I were friends on a quest together. Can't we discuss things without flinging threats back and forth?"

"Yo—you will not bind me?" Calypso asked, suspicious.

"We've no reason to, yet," Will said softly, coming up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and met Elizabeth's gaze with a little nod. Calypso's eyes closed, and a couple of tears squeezed out and wet her cheeks.

Calypso spun around to face Will, taking his hands in her own. "What you want of me, William?" She looked serious, her eyes looking into his intently.

"I want you to remember your humanity," he said. "I want you to remember compassion, mercy, love. I want my son and the rest of my family to be safe from you."

"Yo' faddah?" she asked, bewildered. "Him safe a'ready. He wit' you."

"No, not my father," Will said. "Elizabeth and Jack are my family too. Will they be safe from you, Calypso?"

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he gently stroked down one of the dreadlocks that framed her face. "You told me you wanted my heart, my... love. It's not out of the question, but you have to understand that I love other people as well. There's room in my heart for more than one kind of love. There is no need for you to be jealous of my family. I'll be yours, if you want me, but you have to be mine as well. I'm not the sort of man to love lightly."

"An' what about Elizabet'?"

"Elizabeth isn't my wife anymore; she's going to be Jack's. But she is still my son's mother, and she still has my loyalty."

"I am no threat to you, Calypso," Elizabeth said, "Unless you threaten us. All we're asking is that you remember your heart. After all, if this… thing… works out between you and Will, you'll actually be in the position of stepmother to this baby that you threatened to kill."

"Aye," Jack agreed. "Think on that, Tia. You helped us yesterday because you remembered compassion and mercy, from when you were human. The sea may be heartless and merciless, but you don't have to limit yourself like that anymore, now that you know what it's like to be human. You've transcended the usual powers of a goddess, really, by having been limited to human form for so long. It's ironic, if you think about it."

Calypso looked at him, her expression still one of hurt and wariness, but she was listening. "Transcended?" she said, cocking her head to the side.

Then Elizabeth's statement registered with her and Calypso's gaze shot to meet the other woman's. "Stepmother?" she exclaimed.

"Aye," Will said. His mouth curled up a little on one side when he continued, "It's not as if Death and the Sea could have any children together. Also, you told me that you were responsible for giving us Jacob in the first place, as a gift."

Calypso looked at him a moment, then let her gaze travel to meet Elizabeth's, then Jack's—and then she looked at Jacob. She went over to Jack and reached out to the baby. Elizabeth started forward, but Jack stopped her with an outstretched hand and she subsided, waiting to see what the goddess would do.

Jacob looked up at Calypso and said, "Geh!" as he reached out to touch her face. He felt the texture of the series of dots under her eyes, and then gripped one of her locks and announced, "Dah-mah!"

Calypso's face softened. "'Dalma,' him say," she whispered. "My human name. Him agree wit' you, Jack." She put her hand on top of Jacob's head. Water dripped down his head from where her hand touched him, and she said, "De blessing of de sea be 'pon you… Jacob Swann Turnah."

Jacob blinked the salt water out of his eyes and pulled his hand back from her tear-moistened face to stuff his fist into his mouth.

Calypso smiled tenderly. "Dis boy… him have a touch o' destiny about him, too," she said. "Coodeh, coodeh, him drinkin' de tears of de sea goddess!"*

"Please tell me he's not going to captain the _Dutchman_!" groaned Will.

Calypso shook her head. "Him destiny be among de living." She looked up, around at the others. "De boy be safe from me."

"And what about them?" Will asked, indicating Jack and Elizabeth.

"Dey be yo' family, my William. Dey be safe from me as well."

Will closed his eyes in relief.

"Why, thank you, Tia," Jack said jovially. "Jolly good of you."

Elizabeth said, "Yes." She went over to Calypso and took the woman's two hands in her own. "Thank you, Calypso. This means a lot. Thank you."

"Elizabet'," Calypso said. "Dese be two of my favorite men here, and you have bot' deir hearts. Treat dem well, yes?"

"I promise," Elizabeth said solemnly. "They happen to be my two favorite men as well."

The two women locked eyes for a moment, and then they both started to smile. Will and Jack exchanged bewildered looks. The women had been making death-threats only a moment ago, and now they were holding hands and smiling at each other?

"You take care of my Jack," Calypso told her.

Elizabeth smiled wider. "He's my Jack now, but I will. You take care of my Will!"

Calypso nodded. "He be my William now… but I will."

She turned and went back to Will. He put his arm around her and she smiled up into his eyes as the two of them dematerialized together.

Elizabeth inhaled and then let out a long, deep, shaky sigh.

Jack nodded. "Know exactly what you mean, love." He came over and put his free arm around her, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Oh, Jack," Elizabeth said. "I thought she was going to kill us all."

"It was a real possibility," he admitted. "But we seem to have reached an accord now. Not even the sea goddess is proof 'gainst this laddie's big, shining eyes," he said, smiling at Jacob. "Brave lad you are, eh, Jake? Reachin' out to the sea goddess who's just threatened your life. Must get your balls from your mother, eh? Along with your looks."

Elizabeth chuckled at the thought, slipped her arms around him and Jacob both, and rested her head on Jack's shoulder. They held each other like that for a few minutes, and then Jacob got restless.

"Here, let me try and get him settled," Elizabeth said, taking the baby from Jack. She walked him around the cabin for a few minutes. She chuckled. "You know, I didn't have the heart to tell Tia that he's been saying 'dah-mah' for days now. I don't think it was referring to her!"

Jack chuckled. "All a matter of interpretation, apparently."

Jacob apparently only needed some snuggles from his mother before he fell asleep again, and Elizabeth put him back into the bottom dresser drawer and yawned.

"I'm exhausted," she announced.

"As am I," Jack agreed. "Good thing you told Auntie not to expect you, because I am _not_ rowing you back tonight!"

Elizabeth gave a tired chuckle. Then her jaw dropped. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "I forgot to give Will his heart back."

"Do it next time," Jack yawned. "You takin' the bed or the hammock?" he asked, starting to take off his belts and baldric.

"Are we still sharing the room?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

Jack shrugged. "Why not? We've done before."

"Yes, but we weren't engaged then."

"True," Jack replied. He pretended to think it over, and then, blinking innocently, he said, "If you don't think you'll be able to keep out of my bed, you'd better take it yourself, then. The hammock'll be safer for protectin' my virtue, 'cause there's only room for one."

"_Your_ virtue?"Elizabeth exclaimed hotly. She lifted her chin. "Fine, then, I _will_ take the bed, and you'd jolly well better stay out of it!"

"No fear," he shot back, his smile fading. "Last time we shared it you tried to kill me again!"

Even though he had forgiven her, that incident obviously still rankled. His hurt look took the wind out of her sails.

She went around the table to where he stood and slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips against the side of his neck.

"That was before we were engaged," she said quietly. "Before we loved each other, or knew that we did, at any rate. I had been desperately ill and alone, and I didn't know what I was doing. You take the bed, Jack. I'll sleep in the hammock and I'll keep my hands completely to myself if you want me to."

"I _don't_ want you to," Jack said, relenting, putting his arms around her and kissing her hair. "I love it when you touch me. I just—I've never been strong on self-control before. Always just took what I wanted. but I want to do this right with you, sweetheart. We'll be in Port Royale in just a few days when we can marry. You take the room and I'll take Gibbs' cabin. All right?"

"Are you sure? I don't mind sharing. Truly."

Jack shook his head. "Nay, I'd still have to answer to your auntie in the morning. Better this way. But come give us a kiss goodnight first, eh?"

Elizabeth was happy to oblige, but then Jack started laughing mid-kiss.

"Not the usual reaction," Elizabeth said, amused.

He shook his head in wonder, still laughing. "You realize you made a goddess cry?" he asked. "God, I love you!"

* * *

_Note: In the films, Calypso's accent was intended to be Jamaican, and Naomie Harris, the actor who played her, says that her mother is Jamaican and did some unofficial accent coaching. However, I have lived in Jamaica and never heard that accent, so I have tried to write her accent as a mix between the accent she used and the Jamaican accent that I got used to hearing on the northwestern part of the island where I spent my summers. "Coodeh" is a Jamaican patois expression that means "look there," and is often doubled to "coodeh, coodeh."_


	68. Port Royale Memories

The next morning they returned, with the baby. Elizabeth was pensive as they walked back up to Teague's house from the dock.

"Jack?" Elizabeth said.

"Hmmm?"

"Did you mean what you said to your father yesterday?"

"Which thing I said to my father yesterday?"

"Disagreeing that our wedding night would come soon enough?"

"Aye, of course. But I also meant what I said about protectin' your reputation by not anticipating our wedding night, darling. If you're trying to seduce me into changing me mind again—"

"No, no, of course not. I actually agree with you."

Jack gave her a wicked smirk and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"At least," she amended with a blush, "I do in theory. I agree with you completely until you touch me or kiss me, and then I stop thinking entirely."

Jack leaned over and whispered in her ear, "It's the same for me, but don't tell my Lizzie that. She's been known to take advantage from time to time."

Elizabeth giggled. Jack was so adorable sometimes! "But you're always so cool and calm," she pointed out.

"A fiction, carefully cultivated by Captain Jack Sparrow," he explained. "'Your Jack,' on the other hand, is pretty much putty in your hands."

Elizabeth gave him a long, considering look. "In that case, we definitely ought to find a way to marry sooner. I have an idea about that."

"Do tell, darling."

"I don't particularly want to get married in Port Royale, no matter what Aunt Agatha wants," Elizabeth said.

"Why not?"

"When I think about getting married in Port Royale, I think of Will, Cutler Beckett, and being in jail. I don't want to think about Will when I'm marrying you, and I'd be happy if I never had to think about jail or Cutler Beckett ever again. Also, there's already getting close to the deadline that the governor gave us to marry—we'll be cutting it close as it is."

"Right with you on all counts, love. So what's your idea?"

"We take my aunt back to Port Royale. If we encounter even one single ship on the way, we attack it, take it, and make the captain marry us."

Jack stopped dead and stared at her, his expression thoughtful. He began to smile, thinking about it. "I like it," he decided, "Committing a piratical act in order to wed on time to accept the governor's offer. It's deliciously ironic. "

"Only it mustn't be a very egregious act of piracy, or the governor will hear of it and rescind the pardon," Elizabeth pointed out.

Jack's smile broadened. "You come up with one last act of piracy on our way to accepting the governor's pardon, and you even know how to pronounce 'egregious.' You are the cleverest woman I've ever met in me life!" he exclaimed. "Finally, someone who's a match for me."

"You're just _now_ figuring that out?" Elizabeth asked with mock acidity. "Perhaps you're not so clever after all."

Jack stopped and kissed her soundly, right there on the street. "_I_ knew you were a good match for me years ago," he pointed out, slipping his arm around her as they continued walking. "You didn't figure it out until when? Yesterday? Day before? What's that say about you, love?" he teased.

Elizabeth flushed a little and looked away, smoothing down Jacob's hair where the breeze had ruffled it. "Oh, I knew it before then. It just took me until then to get up the nerve to let you know."

"Yes, well… next time you want to tell me important things, don't wait until right before a battle," he chided. "Tell me 'em as they come up, and don't wait until a life-or-death situation, eh, love?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'll try. You have to do the same." She smiled sweetly at him, the smile that always made him nervous, and pointed out, "For that to work, we'll both have to stay out of life-or-death situations long enough to actually converse!"

"Touché. Have to try harder on that count, won't we?"


	69. Heading Home

Barbossa was highly amused to hear about their plan to marry before reaching Port Royale, but he nearly howled when they confessed what Elizabeth's aunt had done in getting them together in order to accept the governor's pardon. "Sounds a right smart lady," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Playin' a trick like this on the _both_ of you, an' neither one o' ye any the wiser! 'Tisn't often someone tricks the trickster. Sounds like my kind of woman!"

Elizabeth went red with outrage. "She is not! My aunt is a kind, respectable woman, and I'll die happy if you and she never so much as lay eyes on each other!" She turned and stomped away.

Barbossa grinned at Jack. "She pretty?" he asked.

"Aye, she is," Jack said, and then leaned in closer to Barbossa to continue quietly, "But just between you an' me, I suspect me father's thinkin' she's _his_ kind of woman."

Barbossa went pale. "Well, now, I wish good Captain Teague the very best of luck with his amorous pursuits," he said hastily. "Ye'll excuse me, Jack—I have to make ready to sail with the tide." To Jack's amusement, Barbossa hurried away. Apparently, the thought of being Captain Teague's rival in love was enough to scare him clear off the island.

Elizabeth visited Tai Huang and the rest of her crew and thanked them for their help. She had a small gift for each member of the crew, and there was much polite bowing as she said her goodbyes.

Having finally completed their business in Shipwreck, the _Black Pearl_ was underway to Port Royale the next day. The Pearl had several new crew members, the ones that Jack had bartered from Barbossa: Scrum, Derrick, Garheng, and the cabin boy, whose name was Charlie. He and Simon, Jack's cabin boy, were already becoming friends. No one missed Pintel or Ragetti, though Elizabeth privately thought they'd probably miss serving under Jack after they got a renewed taste of Barbossa.

Teague had joined them in order to see Jack and Elizabeth married, and to meet with the governor of Port Royale. The _Pearl_ was crowded, with so many passengers. Teague, Jack, and Gibbs all slept below, while Elizabeth, Jacob, and Maggie took the captain's cabin. Maggie, Teague's housemaid, had steadfastly refused to be parted either from the "old gentleman captain" or from "wee master Jake."

Gibbs once again gave up his cabin below decks to Agatha.

"It's actually one of the safest spots on the ship, if we meet any trouble," he assured her.

"Are we likely to meet any trouble, Mr Gibbs?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Well, ma'am, you have met our captain, haven't you?"

Agatha smiled. "Say no more. Thank you for the loan of your cabin."

"Aye, ma'am. He's just the sort of bloke that _things happen to,_ if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. He and my niece are quite well matched for that, I think."

* * *

"Seems strange to think of my Jacky as a family man," Teague mused aloud later that day, as he and Agatha paced the deck together.

They looked up at Jack, who was at the helm and holding Jacob at the same time. He had placed one of Jake's tiny hands on the helm and appeared to be giving the baby a serious lesson in navigation while Elizabeth looked on and laughed.

"He'll have a wife and a step-son, all at once," Teague went on.

"I think he'll do very well, Edward," Agatha replied briskly. "It's a good boy you have there."

"Wasn't always," Teague remarked. "Struth, Ag'tha, I think whatever goodness he has is largely due to your niece's influence."

"Perhaps she merely helped refine the raw material she found," Agatha said. "Not," she continued ruefully, "That she's very refined these days."

Teague scoffed. "She's a fine pirate and a lady to boot. Bein' all refined amongst our lot would've just got her killed. No, your niece is a strong, clever woman. She and Jacky made a good match. And I reckon he'll do all right with the little one."

Teague smiled, remembering. "He helped his step-mother with the twins for years. I swear they thought _he_ was their mother!"

"Think he and Elizabeth will have any of their own?" Agatha wondered.

Teague raised an eyebrow at the sight of Jack reaching out to Elizabeth, and pulling her close for a lengthy, tender kiss while holding little Jacob with his other hand and letting the baby steer.

"Judging by the way they can't keep their hands off each other? I'd wager on it within the year!"

Agatha chuckled. "That will be nice. I do hope they settle in Port Royale. I'd like to see my grand-nieces and nephews regularly."

"Me an' all," Teague replied, a little despondent. "But I don't reckon they'll be spending much time in Shipwreck after this."

"Well," Agatha said, a little shyly, "If you accept the governor's pardon, you'll need to spend a lot more time in Port Royale as well, Edward. Rent a house, perhaps. And of course you'll be very welcome to visit me for as long as you like."

Teague gave her a long, measuring glance. "That a fact?" he asked finally.

Agatha blushed.


	70. Commandeering a Clergyman

A day and a half into the voyage, they'd had favorable winds and had already passed Navassa Island when they saw a Dutch merchant with her holds full of cargo. Jack and Gibbs conferred at the helm while Elizabeth and the crew watched anxiously from below. Finally Jack turned to them.

"Cotton, raise our colors," he snapped. "Marty! Send a shot across their bow. Elizabeth, send that baby below and arm yourself! Dad, you stay below with Auntie. Liz, I want you in a hat and trousers, just in case."

Teague, who had been taught from his mother's knee that there was only one captain of a ship, never even thought of arguing. He nodded smartly and took Agatha's arm to hurry her below. Elizabeth followed, holding Jacob.

"Aunt Agatha, I'll need you to look after Jacob for me." Agatha took the baby in her arms while Elizabeth hurried to the armory for a sword.

"They'll most likely see it's the _Black Pearl_ and strike their colors," she came back and reassured her aunt, who nodded, looking pale.

Teague patted her shoulder. "'Struth, Ag'tha. It'll likely be fine."

"Elizabeth!" came echoing down the stairs.

"Coming!" she yelled back as she ran back up the main deck. She ducked into Jack's cabin long enough to tear off her dress, pull on her trousers and shirt, and stuff all her hair up into her hat. She slung on her baldric and sword, took a deep breath, and went back out.

The _Pearl_ had sailed close enough so Elizabeth could see the captain and officers moving about on the deck. It was a Dutch ship, lying low in the water.

"Invite them to surrender, Gibbs," Jack ordered.

Gibbs cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted "Surrender and we'll spare ye!"

The Dutch conferred among themselves for another moment, then the captain snapped out an order and a crewman began lowering their flag.

Jack grinned. "That was easy."

Elizabeth went along with the boarding party. Jack divided them up—some to watch the officers on deck to make sure they didn't try anything foolhardy, and the rest to transfer cargo.

"Captain Sparrow, is it?" asked the other captain, a portly Dutchman with yellow sideburns and hardly a trace of Dutch in his accents.

"Aye, and who's askin'?" Jack wanted to know.

"Captain Jan de Vrees, at your service, sir."

The man was awfully respectful for someone being pillaged, but if he was at Jack's service already, well then… "What's your cargo, Captain?" Jack asked.

"Belgian lace and other textiles. Bales of fabric. Some livestock. A few spices. Not much gold. But we're also carrying passengers, sir, and I would like them to be safe."

"As would I, Captain, so let's hope they behave themselves, eh? Bring 'em up here and let's see 'em."

One of the faces was familiar.

"Philip? Is that you?"

"Jack!" the missionary exclaimed with a smile. He came over to shake hands. "How are you?"

"Never better! Glad to see you made it through that debacle at the Fountain," Jack replied with a smile. He had genuinely liked the clergyman. A thought struck him and he started to smile. Elizabeth popped her head back above decks for a moment to ask him a question, but he cut her off.

"Swann, you and Marty take charge of the cargo," he ordered Elizabeth. "This time we're only taking the drink, the spices, and the lace. Make sure the others don't take more'n that."

"Aye, sir," she replied like any sailor would have done, knowing that he was going to tease her later about how obedient she was. "Come on, Marty."

Jack raised his voice so that his crew as well as the other captain could hear him. "And the missionary," he added. "We'll take him as well."

"What?" the captain protested. "Whoever heard of press-ganging a missionary? You can't take the missionary!"

"Can, too. As it happens, I've need of a clergyman."

"Can't argue that," muttered the captain. "Desperate need, I'd say."

Jack grinned and clapped Philip on the back. "Let's go, Philip. You'll be safe, never fear."

The captain started to protest again, but Philip stopped him. "I'll go, Captain de Vrees. I must go where I'm needed."

"Cheers, mate," Jack said. "Come and meet my beloved _Black Pearl_. And my beloved."

After they returned to the _Black Pearl_ and Elizabeth was overseeing stowing the cargo, Jack invited Philip into his cabin. "Come in, man. D'ye drink?" He held up a bottle of rum.

"I'll take a little," Philip replied, taking the chair that Jack motioned toward. Jack poured out a splash of rum into a glass and pushed it across the table to him.

"I owe you one for taking me off that Dutch ship," Philip said. "De Vrees is a decent bloke, but a bit high-maintenance for my tastes. Every time he gets a thought in his head that isn't about food, he thinks he's hearing directly from God, and has to consult with me about it for an hour or two."

Jack laughed. "You're welcome, then."

"So what did you need me for, Jack?" Philip asked. "Finally planning to convert?" He smiled.

"Haven't ruled it out forever, especially as I'm goin' all respectable now, but for right now I just want to get married. We were going to make your captain do it, but then I saw you and thought that'd do even better."

"Married? You?" Philip asked skeptically. Then he gasped in horror. "Dear God, please tell me it's not Angelica Teach!"

Jack recoiled and bared his teeth. "Most emphatically _not_ Angelica," he growled. "Bitch tried to kill me, and when she couldn't do that, she went after my Elizabeth and her little baby son. Killed a whole village trying to get to them, and all."

"So Elizabeth is your intended?"

"Aye," Jack said with a fond smile.

"And is her baby yours?"

Jack scowled. "'Course not. I'd not dishonor her that way. She's a respectable lady. Daughter of a governor. Widowed."

Philip grinned and drank his rum. "Amazing. I'd never have pictured you the marrying type, especially a respectable widow with a baby!" He didn't mention the 'governor's daughter' part.

"Aye, well, ordinarily I'd agree with you, but 'Lizabeth is the exception to every rule. Been friends with her for years. We've been through death and life together. Quite literally, in fact, and in that order"

"Sounds like quite a lady. I look forward to meeting her."

"Soon as she finishes seeing to the cargo, she'll be in. She's a stickler for neatness and precision. She'll have the men stow the cargo so it's tidy and accessible as well as secure. Oh, and she'll have to sharpen her sword even if she didn't use it, or else she won't be able to sleep tonight. Lovely girl, but a bit on the compulsive side."

"What? She's _here_? On board your ship? With a sword?"

"Aye, of course. She's almost as good with it as I am. She even beat Angelica, you know."

Philip started laughing. "Why am I not surprised you'd want to marry a woman like that?"

"Here, what about you? What happened with your mermaid lady-friend? Last I saw her was when she brought me the chalices and then disappeared below again."

"Syrena saved my life. I'll never die by drowning," Philip told him. "She kissed me and healed my wound, but in the end it was too dangerous for us to be together so we said goodbye and parted."

"Dangerous? How?"

Philip shuddered. "She couldn't protect me completely from the rest of her kinswomen."

Jack frowned. "You mean she saved you, but her sisters tried to eat you?"

Philip nodded. "Tried very hard. I barely got away."

Jack gave him a sympathetic grimace and poured him another finger of rum.

There was a knock at the door. "Bet that's her," Jack said. "Come in, love."

Elizabeth came in, tugging off her hat and loosening her hair so it fell down around her shoulders again. "Cargo's all set," she said. "What's with calling me 'Swann'?"

"Couldn't very well call you Elizabeth, with all of de Vrees' crew looking on and thinking you're a boy, could I?"

"No, nor 'darling,' either, I suppose," Elizabeth replied, amused."I just hope you don't think I'm going to be that obedient _all_ the time!"

"It's part of the wedding vows, love," Jack pointed out, an innocent expression crossing his face.

Elizabeth didn't buy his innocence. She gave him a sharp look. "Just so you understand that we're going to be equals in this, Jack. Whatever I have to promise you in public, you promise me in private, and vice versa. _Savvy_?"

Jack grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, darling. Wouldn't even _expect_ it any other way, with you involved!"

Elizabeth nodded, satisfied, and looked at Philip. "You must be the clergyman that Jack kidnapped?"

"'Rescued,' love, 'rescued.' Just ask him," Jack corrected.

Philip smiled. "Captain de Vrees was not the most convenient of shipmates," he said diplomatically. "Philip Swift, at your service." Philip hesitated, never having met a woman in trousers before, apparently unsure whether to shake Elizabeth's hand or bow over it. Elizabeth made his decision easy by shaking his hand and then letting go, like another man would have done.

"Pleasure, Mr Swift. I assume Jack told you why he enacted your, uh, 'rescue'?" she asked.

"He did, though I'm still not sure if I believe him. Jack Sparrow, wanting to marry a respectable married lady with a baby? Daughter of a governor? And how does a governor's daughter come to be wearing trousers and a sword, and consorting with pirates? Come now, ma'am, you can tell me the truth."

Elizabeth smiled. "It's all true, actually. My father was Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royale—that is, he was until he was murdered by the East India Trading Company, who was earnestly trying to take over the whole Caribbean at that point. Jack and my husband, Will Turner, stopped them."

"Really?" Philip looked deeply interested. "I'd love to hear the whole story."

Elizabeth and Jack exchanged glances. "Not sure how much of it you'd be comfortable hearing, to be honest," Jack told him. "Bits of the story might not set well with what you believe, bein' supernatural and all."

Philip shrugged. "I worship an all-powerful God whom I cannot see, and when I had a crisis of faith, found my conviction fortified by a mermaid, of all things. I deal with the supernatural every day."

"Good point."

The two of them told Philip the story of Davy Jones, Calypso, and the East India Trading Company, not leaving out the murder of Will Turner and his subsequent taking over of the ship of the dead. Then Jack filled him in on the events since then, with Angelica and her massive attack on Shipwreck, Elizabeth's death, and his "sacrifice" to get her back.

"I can scarce credit your story," Philip admitted, "But the things I have had happen to me recently have taught me that anything can happen. Literally." He leaned back and looked at the two of them in silence for a few minutes.

Elizabeth was more businesslike in her manner and conversation. Where Jack used flowery words and grand gestures, she was to the point, and told a bare-bones, factual-sounding version of the story. She was just as cool and matter-of-fact about the fact that she loved Jack, talking freely about what close friends they had been, until a conversation with her deceased husband taught her to look deeper into the friendship and she had realized her love for the flamboyant pirate. She touched Jack often, just a quick brush of hands, nothing scandalous, but her expression when she touched him or caught his eye belied her cool manner—Philip just couldn't decide whether he was seeing affectionate warmth or just plain heat.

He looked to Jack for a moment. Philip could not believe the difference in Jack. Not just in looks, though he did look quite different with his hair and beard short and tidy; it was a difference in his whole manner. He seemed softer, somehow, more at ease, less defensive. He sat close to Elizabeth, with his arm around her shoulders, and often he would regard her for a moment or two with an expression of tender admiration.

They exchanged glances that Philip knew would be kisses if he weren't there, and he nodded to himself. These two knew each other very well, and they obviously loved each other more than many couples he had seen. On the surface, they had nothing in common—he, a pirate; she, a governor's daughter and a respectable widow—but after hearing their story he had to admit they had been through more together and complemented each other like few others he had ever seen. Elizabeth's insistence on their equality made sense to him now, as did Jack's claim that he wouldn't have it any other way. Philip somehow couldn't imagine Jack being satisfied with a traditional marriage or a traditional wife, but he seemed more than content with this extraordinary young widow and she with him. Yes; Philip would marry them.

As he watched Elizabeth reach over and stroke the back of Jack's head, making his eyes flutter closed as he moaned in appreciation, Philip chuckled to himself. Yes, he would marry them, and for their sake, he would marry them _soon._

There was another knock at the door, and Jack opened it. "Oh, hello, Auntie!" he greeted. "I take it you survived all the excitement? Here, let me take the laddie," as he took Jacob out of her arms._  
_

"Yes, I survived it, young man, but don't ever do that again!" she remonstrated.

Jack bounced Jacob in his arms and smiled at him. "You should tell Auntie it was your mum's idea," he told the baby, who grinned and grabbed Jack's nose. Jack, nose still held firmly by the baby, looked at Agatha. "It was the only way we could arrange to get married in time to accept the governor's offer!" he said innocently. "And look on the bright side, Auntie. We didn't even have to depend on a strange captain to do it. This here's my friend Philip Swift, a genuine, ordained, legitimate man of the cloth. Philip, Elizabeth's aunt, Agatha Ainsley-Swann," he introduced. "Now then, young Jake, let go me nose, eh?" He pried the little fingers off as Philip and Agatha exchanged greetings.

Jacob, ever the opportunist, let go of Jack's nose and went for his ear instead.

"That wasn't what I meant, young man," Jack scolded him, wincing as Jacob folded his ear over on itself.

Jacob grinned.

So did Philip, Agatha, and Elizabeth.

"Da!" Jacob squealed. "Da! Ma! Dak!"

"Aye, I'm plannin' to be yer Da, all right, soon's I've married yer Ma, and ye've almost got me name right," Jack said, tugging his ear free. "But it'll go a sight better for ye if ye refrain from maimin' me, lad. Here, try this instead." He handed Jacob the new marlinspike that he'd been carving out of a piece of bone, as he'd had to give his reindeer-bone marlinspike to Calypso along with his hair.

Jacob grabbed it and stuffed one end of it into his mouth.

"Just don't get toothmarks in it, eh? Or I won't be able to use it," Jack directed. He looked up to see all the others watching him with various degrees of amusement, surprise, and horror. "What? Any of _you_ ever try to untie a knot when yer marlinspike keeps catchin' on the rope?"


	71. Shackled Again

_This chapter is dedicated to GhibliGirl91, Sammibelle, JDLuvaSQEE, Ranger04, and the others who united their voices to tell me to MARRY THEM PLEASE! All right, fine, you win. Here's the wedding chapter. Enjoy. :)_

* * *

The ship was already within sight of Port Royale when the wedding began, only an hour or two from the harbor. All hands were on deck; Gibbs stood with Jack, who stood gazing out to sea in a reverie, and Agatha waited for Elizabeth. Maggie stood off to the side holding little Jacob, while all the rest of the crew gathered around wearing what passed for their best clothes. Teague propped up one foot on a barrel next to Scrum so he could play, and when Elizabeth emerged from the captain's cabin, the two of them played a short bridal march on the guitar and mandolin.

Elizabeth looked lovely in a royal blue dress with collar, cuffs, and trim made of some of the Belgian lace that they had "liberated" from de Vrees' ship. She had finished putting the lace on only that morning. *

When he saw her, Jack's preoccupied expression slipped; his eyes lit up and his face seemed to soften. He gave her a tiny, nervous smile, which she returned, and they went to stand in front of the clergyman who was waiting with a _Book of Common Prayer_ in his hands.

"Dearly beloved," Philip began. "We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church…"

When Philip reached "Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace," the quiet _click_ of Teague's pistol being cocked was audible. No objections were made. Teague de-cocked his pistol.

Philip went on. "John Robert Sparrow, wilt thou have this woman—"

"Smith," Jack broke in.

"What?"

"Smith. Me real name."

Elizabeth's eyebrows went up. "Your real name is _John Smith?_ Seriously?"

"'S the name I was born with, aye," Jack replied.

"But it's so... well, commonplace!"

"Why d'ye think I use Sparrow? Remember when we made the bet? When I told you there was only one circumstance under which I'd tell you my real name? This is it. If ye married me, I'd tell you."

Philip cleared his throat and went on. "John Robert… Sparrow… Smith, wilt thou have—"

"Teague," interrupted Jack's father. At Jack's surprised look, he shrugged. "My son, my heir, my name."

Jack whipped his head around to look at his father in surprise.

Teague shrugged a little. "If ye want t'accept it, that is."

Jack was silent for another moment, staring at Teague, and then he swallowed. "I... uh—Aye, I'd like that. Thanks, Dad," Jack said.

Teague nodded, looking pleased.

"There, now that that's settled, may I please marry them now?" Philip made an impatient gesture. "John Robert Sparrow… Smith… Teague—" Philip paused between each name and looked around to see if anyone else had any contributions to make.

Hearing none, he went on, "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will," Jack replied evenly.

Philip turned to Elizabeth. "Elizabeth Agatha Turner—"

"Swann!" Elizabeth, Jack, and Agatha all spoke up together.

Philip threw up his hands and turned away. "God above, will you make up your minds?" he cried in exasperation. "Fine. Elizabeth Agatha Swann. Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will," Elizabeth replied.

Philip asked, "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"

Elizabeth and Jack looked at each other. Oops; they had overlooked this part.

"I do," came a new voice from the fo'cs'le.

Will.

He came down the stairs and the crew parted for him like a bow wave. Two sailors in the back started spitting and twirling to ward off bad luck.

Will looked at Elizabeth. "If I may, that is."

Elizabeth nodded, beaming at him.

Jack shrugged. "You _are_ uniquely qualified for it—just as long as you understand I'd still marry her even if you didn't want to let her go."

"Of course," Will replied in amusement. "I'd expect nothing less." He came forward and took Elizabeth's hand.

"I do," he repeated to the clergyman. "I give this woman to be married to this man." Philip nodded, swallowing nervously, knowing now who Will was.

Will clasped her hand in both of his for a moment, kissed it, and then placed it into Jack's hand. He gave Jack a warning look, and Jack returned him a smug, gleaming grin. Will stepped back into the crowd, who once again gave him a wide, _wide_ berth.

"Jack, take Elizabeth's right hand in your right hand and repeat after me. I, John, take thee, Elizabeth, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

Jack dutifully repeated the vow, and then it was Elizabeth's turn to say hers. Her hand shook in Jack's, but her voice was steady. "I, Elizabeth, take thee John to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

There was a brief pause, and then Philip whispered to Jack, "The ring?"

"Oh! Oh, right!" Jack removed a gold ring from his little finger that Elizabeth had never seen before. It was a simple band at first sight, but when Elizabeth looked closer she saw it was in the shape of two hands clasped—just as their hands had been, a moment ago. **

Jack placed the ring on the prayer book, and Philip raised it heavenward and then gave it back to him.

Jack held it up so it caught the morning light. "With this ring, I thee wed," he told Elizabeth. He gave her one of his intense, velvety-black looks as he said, "With my body I thee worship." He swallowed and went on. "…and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father," he held the ring at the tip of her finger, "And of the Son," he slid it to the first knuckle, "And of the Holy Ghost—" The second knuckle now. "Amen!" he finished loudly, with a relieved grin, sliding the ring home to the base of her finger.***

Philip smiled at Jack's enthusiasm, as he urged them to kneel on the deck for the marriage prayer. "Let us pray," he said. "Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life: Send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this man and this woman, whom we bless in thy Name; and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," repeated some of the pirate crew in reverential tones that amused Philip even more, considering their source.

He joined Jack's and Elizabeth's right hands together again, sandwiched between his own, and announced loudly, "Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder!"

He faced the rest of the crew and guests, and said, "Forasmuch as Jack and Elizabeth have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

He bowed his head. "God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen."

"Amen!" repeated the pirate crew, and some of them put their hats back on.

Philip said with a smile, "You may now—"

Elizabeth grabbed the back of Jack's head and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, which lasted several seconds while the pirates whooped and laughed, and Agatha blushed.

When they parted, both breathless, Philip finished his sentence. "—Kiss your bride."

"Guess once wasn't enough after all!" Jack cried to the crew of the _Pearl,_ most of whom had been present for his previous refusal of Elizabeth's kiss two years ago. They yelled and cheered as he kissed Elizabeth again, bending her over backward over his arm and making a show of it for them. He finally brought her upright again and ended it, with both of them laughing along with the rest of the crew.

"Mr Scrum!" Gibbs called.

"Aye, sir?"

"The moment calls for some music!" Gibbs shouted.

Scrum grinned as he hollered back, "Aye, sir!" and started playing a lively, merry melody on his mandolin. Several sailors whooped and cheered, and some of them started dancing.

Will retreated to the shadows when no one was looking, but Elizabeth called out, "Will! Don't go away yet!"

* * *

_Notes: The wedding ceremony comes word for word straight out of the Book of Common Prayer, which is what Philip would have used in the 18th century, assuming he was Church of England as Elizabeth and Jack would have been (if they were of any church at all, that is). You'll notice how formal the language is; marriage was considered a sacrament of the church, and therefore extremely sacred, serious, and important—that is why Will and Elizabeth's spur-of-the-moment "wedding" in the middle of a battle, with made-up vows and an unqualified officiator, was invalid even before you get into the issue of the registry filing._

_In this story I am overlooking the detail that according to the church custom and civil law at the time, Jack and Elizabeth really ought to have cried the banns (made a public announcement in the church) of their marriage every week for at least a month before the wedding. In this case, my justification in taking that particular creative license is because (a) Shipwreck had no church and (b) they're getting close to the governor's deadline and couldn't take the time to cry the banns even if they wanted to wait that long... which they don't._

_* It used to be tradition that the bride's wedding-dress wouldn't be completely finished until the day of the wedding. The last stitch was always left until the morning of the wedding, so that the marriage would be blessed._

_** Jack gives Elizabeth was an old Roman-style "fede" ring, which you can see by doing a google image search for "roman fede ring." The first few images, the ones that show two right hands clasped, are what this ring looked like, only in gold._

_*** It was traditional, when the groom put the ring on the bride's finger, to put it on gradually. He would either start at the ring-fingertip for "in the name of the Father," and advance, knuckle by knuckle through the rest of the blessing and then slide it into place at the base of the finger on the "amen" as Jack did, or he would begin at the tip of the thumb for "in the name of the Father," proceed to the forefingertip for "and the Son," the middle finger for "and the Holy Ghost," and then put it onto the proper ring finger on the "Amen."_

_Men did not commonly wear wedding rings until the mid-20th century. Any stories or movies that show a double-ring ceremony before World War II is anachronistic. It was in WWII that soldiers began to wear wedding rings as a visible connection to their wives back home. Also, in historic times, a wedding ring was seen as a mark of the husband's ownership of the wife; however, in the latter half of the 20th century, with the advent and advance of women's rights, marriages became much more egalitarian so that the husband would belong to the wife as well, and would be more willing to symbolize that belonging by wearing a wedding ring. The idea became more popular as jewelry stores realized they could make more money with it, and that's how and when the tradition of men's wedding rings began. Jack would not have worn one, as it would never have occurred to him, nor would it have occurred to Elizabeth to give him one._


	72. So Many Hearts, So Many Kinds of Love

Elizabeth whispered something to Jack, and he nodded and gestured grandly toward the cabin. Will came over to them.

"I have something to give you," she told Will. She beckoned for him to follow her into the cabin, where she went and pulled out the chest with his heart in it from beneath the bed. She snatched the voodoo doll off the top of the chest and shoved it under the pillow, blushing.

Will noticed and knelt down next to her. "What was that?" he asked, pulling it back out for a look. "Is this supposed to be Jack?"

Elizabeth sighed and nodded. "It's a voodoo doll. Little gift from Angelica. I've kept it here near your heart because it's the safest place I could think of."

"Is that what you wanted to give me?" Will asked with an evil smile. "I could have some fun with that!"

"No!" Elizabeth cried, snatching it away. "Angelica almost killed him with it. I don't ever want it used against him again!"

"Why don't you just break its power, then?" Will asked.

"Because we don't know how. Do you?" she asked him. "Do you have the power?"

Will held out his hand in an "it's obvious" gesture, and asked, "Elizabeth, were you or were you not just married by a _clergyman_?"

"Yes. What of it? Oh, you mean Philip could—?"

"Yes, of course he could. Assuming he's sincere and devout in his beliefs, that is. Now if it isn't this charming toy, what, exactly _did_ you want to give me?"

"This," she said, placing her hand on the chest that held his heart. "I'm married to someone else now." She smiled, a little wistfully. "I'll always care for you as my friend, Will, but my heart is Jack's now. It wouldn't be right for me to keep yours anymore."

Will stared at the chest for a long moment. "Not sure what to do with it," he admitted.

Elizabeth smiled. "Give it to Calypso?" she suggested gently. "She did say she wanted it, when you were ready to give it to her."

Will looked up at her, startled. He kept her gaze for a minute, and then looked away. "Now there's a thought," he muttered as if to himself. He nodded sharply. "I'll do that. Thank you, Elizabeth." He picked up the box with a determined air, strode to the rear of the cabin, and flung it hard out the open window. They heard the splash as it hit the water, and Jack's startled exclamation from the quarter-deck above.

"It's all right!" They both called up to him through the open window.

Elizabeth added, thinking of James Norrington, "It was nothing you'd lament being rid of!"

She and Will shared a quick grin and then went back out on deck, climbing up to where Jack stood on the quarter-deck watching the festivities below.

"So how's Angelica?" Jack asked when they joined him.

"Safe and sound in her convent."

"Good, good. Glad to hear it. What did you toss overboard?"

"Will's heart," Elizabeth answered. "He's apparently giving it to Calypso for safekeeping."

"Ah! Good. That should make her happy, and maybe I'll be able to sleep tonight without all that appalling thump-thump-thumping."

Will raised his eyebrows. "You're planning to sleep tonight?" he asked innocently.

Jack gave Elizabeth a flirtatious, sidelong glance. He reached out to caress her blushing cheek. "Eventually," he murmured. "Maybe."

Will stifled a snicker and went back down to the main deck.

Jack laughed as Elizabeth huffed with embarrassed exasperation and dragged him by the hand back down to the main deck for the dancing.

Philip called them over to sign the license. Elizabeth signed first, and then Jack signed his name to it with a flourish, right next to Elizabeth's own even lengthier signature. Both of them signed every single name they'd ever had, including _Sparrow_, and the signatures were rather longer than the lines provided for them.

"There," Jack said loudly, giving Will a smug look. "All nice an' legal an' aboveboard. No one's ever going to question the validity of _this_ marriage!" He drew Elizabeth into his arms and hugged her close.

"Or the length of the names," Philip muttered to himself as he examined the license.

Will rolled his eyes and waved to them as he melted into the shadows and dematerialized.

Teague set down his guitar and stalked forward. "First dance," he informed Jack, pulling Elizabeth out of her new husband's arms and into his own. Elizabeth laughed as Teague whirled her dizzily around the deck to Scrum's lively mandolin.

Jack shrugged and went over to Aunt Agatha. "Fancy a dance, Auntie?" he asked, holding out his hand to her with a little bow.

She smiled and handed the baby back to Maggie, and accepted Jack's hand. "Just go easy on an old woman," she warned playfully.

Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Like you can't take everything I dish out, and then throw it back to me doubled!" he scoffed, sending her into an active spin that was every bit as athletic as what his father was putting Elizabeth through. Agatha's high-pitched giggle sounded over the music.

Some sailors joined in, performing lively jigs and hornpipes, and Marty came forward and took the baby so that Maggie could join in the merriment. She, Agatha, and Elizabeth, as the only women on board, were in constant demand as dance partners, and danced with sailor after sailor, whirling and breathless.

Gibbs had assigned a rotation of helmsmen on the wheel, so that all the sailors would get a chance to enjoy the festivities and the _Pearl_ could continue sailing into Port Royale without having to drop anchor.

Finally they arrived, and Jack sent up some sailors to reef the sails as a couple of others lowered the anchor and then started lighting lanterns against the early twilight.

Teague and Scrum started playing together again, a slower, more romantic melody with complicated harmonies and a sensual rhythm. Jack strode over to Elizabeth, where she was talking to her aunt. He bowed and offered his hand; they hadn't had a chance to dance together yet. Agatha smiled and gave Elizabeth a little push. Elizabeth took Jack's hand and he led her out to mid-deck. The other sailors retreated to the sidelines as he took her in his arms and they danced slowly around the deck as the sun set.

When the music ended, Jack cupped his new bride's face between his hands and gave her a sweet, soft kiss.

"Awww," was the general consensus of the surprisingly sentimental pirates, and they were all smiling as they made their way one by one to the longboats to go ashore into Port Royale.

Gibbs and Teague approached Jack. Teague was holding the sleeping baby as if it were a parcel, while Agatha and the housemaid were climbing awkwardly into the longboat. "The laddie's coming ashore with us overnight," Teague told Jack. "No need to worry 'bout him."

"Thanks, dad," Jack said with a relieved smile. "We'll see you tomorrow, then. We'll meet you in the square at nine, and then we'll all go to the governor together."

"Aye," Teague agreed, and turned to leave.

"Jack, we're all going ashore as well," Gibbs. "Cotton's volunteered to stay here on watch tonight, so you don't have to worry about anything while you're, er, otherwise engaged."

"Thank you, Mr Gibbs. Cotton is an inspired choice," Jack approved. "Most discrete."

"Thought you'd see it that way, sir." Gibbs and Jack bumped fists and exchanged smirks with each other, and then the older man took over the job of harrying everyone else off the ship and into the longboats.

Jack and Elizabeth looked at each other as the ship cleared out.

"You hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You?"

"No."

"Thirsty?"

"Always. Hope you are, too—otherwise that bottle of spumanti I got for us may take me a while to finish by meself."

"Spumanti? Lead on, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth said with a smile.

"It's in me cabin." Jack tucked her hand into his bent arm and headed that direction.

"Ah, and does your cabin still contain 'no dress'?" she asked.

"Assuredly."

"Then I believe I shall go change into it, if you'll permit me. The dress I'm wearing is a bit constricting."

"I'll show you where I keep it," Jack offered, gallantly holding the door open for her.

* * *

_Note: It was fairly common for 18th century men and women to have several names apiece, even from birth. It was a way of including family members, by naming the new baby after several people at once. Also, a woman would often keep her maiden name as one of her middle names, and add her married name to the end. A woman who had been widowed and remarried would simply add the new husband's name to her already existing married name; she would stop using it socially, but it would still be part of her name legally. _

_Thus, Jack's signature looked like this:_

**_John Robert Smith "Sparrow" Teague_**

_And Elizabeth's was rather longer:_

**_Elizabeth Agatha Swann Turner Smith "Sparrow" Teague_**

_"Turner" would continue to be part of Elizabeth's full legal name, but once she's remarried she wouldn't get called Mrs Turner anymore. The "Sparrow" would be in quotation marks because it's the name that Jack commonly uses, but it's not a legal name. It's more of a nickname, and nicknames always get set off by quotation marks in legal documents.  
_


	73. Pictures of Consummate Bliss

_Note: This chapter does not contain any graphic smut that would require an M rating, but it is strongly suggestive and portrays some undressing and sex-related nudity. It may be inappropriate for some of my readers who are still quite young, so please use good judgment when deciding whether to read it or not. Remember that I'm a mother and I don't **want** to get reviews from twelve-year-olds telling me how "HAWT!11!" this scene was. That will just squick me out and make me never write romance again, so please be responsible in choosing whether to read it or not! :) Thank you!_

* * *

Inside the cabin, Jack went to the dining table and uncorked the sparkling Italian wine. He poured out into the two glasses Agatha had given them as a memento of their wedding. Elizabeth came up beside him and he handed her a glass.

"To…" he paused. "What shall we drink to, love?"

"To freedom?" Elizabeth suggested. "Though it seems a bit ironic at the moment, considering our discussion a few days ago about mutual shackling."

"Mmm," Jack replied thoughtfully. "Mutual shackling, eh? Not to say shackles don't have their place—and they certainly do have a history between us—but, ah, perhaps not just at the moment." He gave her a mischievous look. "Perhaps later."

"Well, then, how about, 'To freedom, together'?" she asked. "It's going to be a whole new kind of freedom, if you think about it. It shan't be the freedom of piracy anymore—but 'where we will, we'll roam' without fearing the gallows. It won't be the freedom of single life and not having to answer to anyone anymore—but we'll have the freedom of being able to trust and depend on someone else who loves us. It's still freedom, Jack—it's just a different kind than either of us has had before."

Jack thought that over and finally nodded and clinked his glass against hers. "I can go along with that," he concurred. "To freedom, together."

They drank, watching each other over the rims of their glasses. Elizabeth set hers down with a shaking hand and lifted her chin to hide her nervousness.

"So where do you keep the 'no dress'?" she asked boldly. "I'd like to change into it."

He leered at her. "I'd like to help you with that."

She turned her back to him and looked at him over her shoulder. "Want to get my hooks and laces?" she asked.

He started to unfasten the long line of hooks and eyes going all down the back of her dress. "You look beautiful today, Liz," he told her, "All dressed up, poised and dignified. It was the first time I really felt like I was marrying the governor's daughter, instead of my lovely pirate lass."

"I wish my father could have been here today," Elizabeth said wistfully.

Jack stopped unhooking and put his arms around her. He pulled her back to lean against him and pressed his cheek against hers. "He'd never have allowed us to wed, but I am sorry for your sake that he's gone."

Elizabeth turned her head and kissed him softly. "We don't _know_ that he wouldn't. He did see us standing together on the ship at World's End, remember? And he told me he was proud of me."

"Probably proud that you'd been able to withstand my charms for so long," Jack told her, deadpan. "He might not be so proud to see you've finally succumbed to them." He kissed her neck, nibbling a little, to prove his point.

Elizabeth gasped and tried to keep the thread of the conversation going. "Just because he tried to hang you at first meeting, you're prejudiced against him. You oughtn't be, you know. I'm sure many people have that urge when they first meet you."

Jack chuckled. "I'm an acquired taste, is that it, love?" He turned her face toward him over her shoulder and kissed her again, more deeply.

She turned around in his arms to face him without breaking the kiss, and ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders. "You're an addiction, is what you are," she said, panting into his mouth.

"You're one to talk," he returned, kissing her again, pulling her against him so he could reach behind her and unfasten the rest of her hooks. "'M quite sure I can't do without you any longer, sweetheart." He pulled the dress roughly off her shoulders, leaving her in only her corset and shift, and she stepped out of the billowing skirts as they settled to the floor.

Jack's gaze was predatory. He stepped closer and whispered, "Take your hair down, darling. Take your hair down and you'll look like you did, back on that rum-runner's island."

Elizabeth pulled out her hairpins, one by one, and her curls tumbled down around her shoulders. "You liked that, did you?" she asked.

"Aye," he breathed, running his fingers through her hair, loosening the curls. "You've no idea how difficult it was for me not to try harder to seduce you that night. You were so beautiful in the firelight, so _free_. I think I may have loved you even then."

"You were quite dashing yourself, you know. A little more rum and you might have got your wish," she said lightly. "Why do you think I burned it all? I couldn't risk acting on my attraction for you."

Jack's jaw dropped. "Why, you little minx! And I never knew!"

"I didn't intend that you should. But you I hope you'll agree that things eventually worked out the way they should have done."

"If a bit _later_ than they should have done," he growled. "Naughty little baggage!"

Elizabeth stuck her nose in the air and spoke with a regal tone. "So am I to understand, Captain Sparrow, that if I throw myself at you a third time, it will have a different outcome than the previous two?"

"Very," Jack assured her in a low voice, black eyes glinting.

Elizabeth was struck for a moment by his dark beauty as he stood there in the lantern light. His snowy-white linen shirt contrasted with his sun-browned skin and his black hair and eyes. He wore a blood-red velvet jacket. Charcoal breeches tucked neatly into new black boots completed his resplendence. She was getting used to his short hair and beard, and he was, quite simply, stunning.

"The island is a nice memory," she conceded, coming closer. "But I'm rather partial to our first meeting, actually."

"That a fact?" Jack asked.

He grabbed his dagger from his belt and, with one swift motion, sliced the laces of her corset and threw it aside. He spun her around and pulled her back up against him, loosening his cravat with his other hand. He tugged it off and pulled it loosely across her throat as if it was the chain of his shackles. She gasped.

"Now, Miss Swann, if you'd be so kind," he growled in her ear, just as he had done at their first meeting, surrounded by soldiers.

Elizabeth turned and unbuckled his baldric, tugging a little roughly on the leather.

"Easy on the goods, darling," Jack advised with a roguish smirk.

She tossed the sword belt onto the table, sword and all. The velvet coat came next, followed by the pristine linen shirt. He kicked off his boots.

When nothing was left but his breeches, he kissed her again. He caught her trembling hands in his and pressed them to his lips, one after the other, before bringing them down to the flies of his trousers. "Now, Miss Swann," he whispered. "If you'd be _very_ kind—"

Miss Swann, he discovered, could be very kind indeed.

* * *

Afterwards, Jack lay on his side, panting, with his head pillowed on her breast while his heart slowed down. "You're a dreadful wanton, Lizzie, ye know that?"

She smiled and stroked the back of his head. "You're my husband. I'm allowed to be so."

His eyes fell closed and he arched his neck to allow her better access to stroke his head. "Encouraged, in fact. But ye're going to be the death of me all over again, I think."

She angled a half-lidded gaze down at him. "Are you complaining?"

He shook his head and pressed a kiss against the side of her breast. "Uh-uh. Rejoicin' in my good fortune." He sighed contentedly as she resumed stroking his head, and closed his eyes again. "I do love ye so, sweetheart."

"'Sweetheart,'" she repeated. "'Love.' 'Darling.' You have all these endearments for me, but I only ever call you Jack. Just Jack. Doesn't seem fair."

"Mmmm. Just call me _your_ Jack from time to time, an' we'll be square," he said sleepily. "You've no idea what it does to me—especially after all that '_Oh!_ _My!_ **_Jack!_**' from a few minutes ago."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well, do you blame me? You were a bit surprising! I hadn't known it could feel like that. I just didn't know."

"Now ye do," he said with deep satisfaction. "An' it'll likely get better with practice."

"Not sure I'll survive the experience," she muttered. She felt his body quake briefly in a silent chuckle, and she rolled over to face him. She put her arms around him and kissed his soft, short hair. "I love you," she whispered, "my Jack."

He was smiling as he fell asleep, face nuzzled into her breasts.


	74. Morning

The next morning, Elizabeth woke before Jack did. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the _Pearl's_ captain's cabin—her cabin too, she supposed, and she rolled over to look at her new husband as he slept on his stomach, head pillowed on one bent elbow. The sheet had crept down around his thighs, and without all his hair, the line of his neck followed the smooth curve of his back all the way around his buttocks. She reached out to stroke his scarred shoulders, but then pulled back and grinned at a sudden idea. The night before, they had both enjoyed all that reminiscing about their first meeting, and had in fact acted out how (in retrospect) they felt it _should _have gone. But as long as they were feeling nostalgic, she knew how she could wake him.

A peculiar scent drifted across Jack's nostrils, and they twitched. Even asleep, he knew that scent. "No!" he cried, coming awake instantly. "Not good!" He leaped to his feet, still naked, and looked wildly around the cabin.

"Good morning, Jack," Elizabeth said, eyes dancing. "I have good news and bad news."

Nose twitching, he still looked around for the source of the burning smell he still had nightmares about. "Eh? Wot?"

"Well, the bad news is that we have to go into Port Royale and face the governor in a couple of hours," she said.

Jack scowled. "Elizabeth Swann, if you've burned all the rum again—"

"—Which brings me to the good news," she said smoothly. She held up a full bottle and sloshed it. "The rum is _not_ gone. In fact, we have more of it than before, because I had Marty and the lads steal a couple of extra kegs of it from that Dutch ship we took yesterday. I only burned a spoonful of it, to wake you up."

"You think I ever want to wake up to that smell again as long as I live?" he groused, glaring at her. "You," he said, advancing on her from across the room, "Are a horrid, heartless, harridan harpy. And you're mean, to boot! Why would you do something like that to someone you claim to love?"

Elizabeth tried not to giggle. "I'm so sorry, Jack. So very, very sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you..." she came closer and let her hands drift down from his shoulders to parts south. "Do you think you could ever possibly forgive me?" she asked, with a caress to accompany every other word.

Jack groaned, closing his eyes. He reached out and clasped her shoulders. "There may be a way," he said, his voice going a little hoarse. He spun them around so her knees hit the bed and buckled, and he followed her down onto the mattress. He bent his head and tasted the skin of her neck. "You're a clever lass, Liz. Let's see if you can figure it out."

Luckily for them both, Elizabeth did figure it out, and her new husband forgave her quite readily. At least, she assumed he did, as by the time they were finally dressing to see the governor two hours later he seemed to have completely forgotten the latest rum-burning incident.

Although a certain gleam in his eye when he thought she wasn't looking told her that he never, ever would.

* * *

_Note: I didn't mean to give myself a shout-out in this chapter; it just happened. It was something Jack would have said. Honest!_


	75. Governor Anderson's Pardon

The meeting with Governor Anderson went well. He was a young man, only a few years older than Elizabeth. Like her, he had read about the exploits and adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow in his youth… and just like she'd used to do, he had a serious case of hero-worship for Jack. Elizabeth had to hide her smile at the awed and gleeful expression that kept crossing his face when he studied his flashily-dressed guests.

He was all business dealing with Teague, though. He made it clear that Teague would be expected to work for his pardon by keeping Port Royale safe from all pirate attacks by anyone connected with the pirate lordship at Shipwreck.

"I am, of course, aware that many pirates have no connection with you or your circles, and that you have no influence with the rogue ones. However, if any of them do attack, you would be expected to find and capture them, and bring them back here to stand trial."

"I have no problem with that; however, my influence may be broader than ye think, Governor," Teague replied mildly.

"Aye, it is that," Jack interjected. "His name is still spoken in hushed whispers in every pirate port in the Caribbean! I shouldn't worry overmuch about rogue attacks if I were you, Governor."

"Really? Well, I am glad to hear that. Well, Captain Teague?" Anderson pressed.

"Aye, Governor, I accept your terms."

"Very well, and thank you. I will of course provide you with a small house and staff here in Port Royale if you wish. I know Mrs Ainsley-Swann mentioned that you live elsewhere, but we both thought you might do better to relocate here to Jamaica, the better to fulfill your duties. I trust you have sufficient income to meet your needs if your housing is provided?"

Teague's dark eyes took on a gleam of amusement. "Sufficient, aye. Ye might say so. An' thank ye fer the house, Governor. I'll take it, an' gladly."

"You are quite welcome, sir. I'll have my secretary deliver your documents, and then you can be on your way."

Once Teague had the pardon in hand, he gave the governor a brief bow, winked at Elizabeth and Jack, and headed out.

"Now, then," Anderson said to the two of them. "Just between us, Captain Sparrow, I pardoned your father more as a favor to Mrs Ainsley-Swann than because I find him especially deserving. I am a practical man, however, and if he can keep my city safe for even a decade, it is still a bargain.

"_You_, however, I am more eager to pardon and see on the right side of the law. What you did for the citizens of New Flimwell was a brave and generous thing, especially for a pirate. But then, you've never been that bloodthirsty a pirate, have you, if the things I've read about you are true. Sacking Nassau without firing a shot, for example. You've been a thief, but not a murderer, as I understand it."

"Aye, it's true. 'Ve never been much for killing willy-nilly," Jack replied. "Just t' defend myself."

"Or someone else," Elizabeth put in, remembering when Jack had killed Barbossa when he had been about to shoot Elizabeth.

"Yes," Anderson said. "Mrs Ainsley-Swann tells me that you not only found out who was responsible for the attack on New Flimwell, but that you set a trap for him, fought him, caught him, and arranged for his deportation and lifelong incarceration. Is that true?"

"More or less," Jack said. "In honest truth, I felt a bit responsible for the attack, so I did what I could to set things right afterward."

"_What?_" the governor demanded shortly. Suddenly he turned from star-struck teenager to ruthless governor with the power to rescind Jack's amnesty and hang him forthwith. "Pray tell, in what way were you responsible for it, sir?" He frowned at Jack. "What part did you play? I demand to know."

Jack put up his hands in a warding-off gesture. "Wait just a minute here, Governor. I had nothing to do with the attack itself. The person who led the attack was someone I'd had treacherous dealin's with in the past, but I'd allowed to live. Had I known what she would go on to do, I might _not_ have been so merciful."

"'She'?" The governor asked. "The attacker was a woman?"

"Aye. A rabid _cur_, more like, but a bitch one."

"What was her reason for the attack?"

"I was," Elizabeth spoke up. "She thought that Captain Sparrow and I were conducting an illicit affair, and she was jealous. We were not, however. Jack has been a friend of mine and my husband's for several years; also, I believed my husband to still be alive at the time."

"Ah, so it was personal against the two of you, then?" Anderson pressed.

"It was," Elizabeth replied. "Unfortunately, neither of us was present at the time of the attack. If we had been, she might not have winnowed through the town so violently."

"Ah, but you might not have survived then," Anderson said. "So—you'll pardon me, but I wish to make absolutely certain of this—the only part you played in the attack, Captain Sparrow, was a previous acquaintance with the attacker, during which you allowed her to live?"

"Aye, sir, that was all."

"And your only regret was having shown her mercy?"

"Aye," Jack said through gritted teeth. "Saved her life when she was dyin', even. 'F I hadn't been so softhearted and had let her die, all those folks in Flimwell would've still been alive."

"Or might have died of the outbreak of Influenza that Mayor Quimby informs me claimed the lives of several settlers. It would seem that the burning of the town may have ended the sickness before it became a plague. No, Captain, I see no fault of yours here." He smiled, once again the friendly, gleeful young man with _pirates! Real pirates!_ in his office. "In that case, you shall have the pardon, and gladly."

"Thank you, Governor. Er, what of my crew, sir? They're decent blokes, all of 'em—in fact, I've just got rid of the last two I wouldn't trust. Am I to be pardoned and have to get a whole new crew, or shall my crew be pardoned with me?"

"I shall need their names and backgrounds, Captain, but assuming no egregious violence in their pasts, I see no reason why you should not keep your own crew. They shall be pardoned as long as they remain with you."

Jack met Elizabeth's gaze with amusement at the governor's use of _egregious,_ but when he looked back at the governor he was the soul of decorum. "I thank ye very kindly, Governor, and so shall my men, I'm sure. Er, what about when they stop remainin' with me? Many of 'em are no longer young men, sir."

"If they seek honest employment elsewhere, or if they retire while working for you, they shall remain pardoned. If any of them leave your employ to return to piracy, then I shall expect you to do your duty and turn them in. Will you do that?"

Jack nodded. "Aye, that's fair enough, sir, and I thank ye."

"Glad to do it, Captain. It does you credit, that you should be loyal to your men." Anderson turned to Elizabeth. "Mrs Sparrow, in examining your history and hearing your aunt's account of your so-called crimes, I find no wrongdoing in your case either. Your helping Captain Sparrow escape four years ago was excused by Governor Swann, and completely understandable in any case, considering his heroic efforts on behalf of the king's Navy against the accursed pirates."

Jack smirked.

Anderson went on, still addressing Elizabeth. "Your leading the attack against the East India Trading Company was a matter of self-defense, as I understand it. The Company had no legitimate authority to make demands as it did, and Cutler Beckett no power from the king to attack anyone. Therefore your arrest at his hands was wrongful in the first place, and for that I must convey sincere apologies from the crown."

Elizabeth said nothing, but sank into a deep curtsey of profound gratitude.

"In addition, Mrs Sparrow—for such I am told you've become, and in the nick of time, too!" Anderson grinned. "You both have my congratulations on your marriage, and my best wishes for your happiness. You shall also be provided a house and staff here in Port Royale, and since your time shall be divided fairly equally between the two towns, I shall arrange for a house in New Flimwell also if you wish it."

"I'd prefer to visit there first, Governor," Jack told him, "See how things stand there, get the lay of the land and figure out what they need, before we decide about that. But we'll accept housing here, and gladly. It'll be good for the little one," he murmured as an aside to Elizabeth.

"Oh, there's a child?" the governor asked, eyes darting between the two of them, since he knew they had only been married the day before.

"Aye, there is. Jacob Turner, Mrs Sparrow's little son from her _first_ husband," Jack explained pointedly.

"Oh! Oh, I see. Well, good!" He turned to Elizabeth. "Mrs Sparrow, I know my wife Louisa would like to meet you, and your son ought to meet our little girl, Martha. They may become playmates. I'll have my wife send you a card."

"That would be lovely, sir," Elizabeth replied.

"Now, then. Your first assignment is to deliver some lumber and tools to Flimwell, but the lumber is still being cut down as we speak. If I ask you to leave in, say, a week and a half, can you be ready to sail by then?"

"I could sail this evening with the tide if you wished it, Governor," Jack bragged, "Only excepting I've a mind to take my lovely bride on a bit of a honeymoon before we buckle down to work."

Anderson smiled. "By all means, and I wish you both joy. I'll see you again in a week or so, then, Captain, Mrs Sparrow."

Thus dismissed, Jack and Elizabeth left the governor's office, stopping only long enough to see the secretary and pick up their official pardons. Then they headed back toward Aunt Agatha's house, where the older lady had assured them would be a fine, celebratory luncheon laid out for them and Captain Teague.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked as they walked. "Where do you plan to go for our honeymoon? This was the first I've heard of it."

"One of the spots I'm plannin' to leave some of your treasure. Little spot what gave us both some fond memories," he said with a wink. "A little singing, dancing, drinking, a bonfire, and _no_ rum-burning. Is that clear, my girl?" He gave her a severe look.

"You're never going to forget that, are you? I promise, no rum-burning this time," Elizabeth agreed, smiling. "So, the rum-runners' island again, then?"

"Aye, but with a boat to leave on, and some supplies to make our stay a bit more comfortable—and no one around but us, for most of a week."

"That sounds heavenly," Elizabeth said, her eyes darkening at the thought. "What sort of supplies?"

"Food and water, some wine along with the rum, perhaps a blanket or two… that is, unless you prefer your seductions on the bare sand?" Jack asked politely. "I'll gladly accommodate your desires either way."

Elizabeth laughed, blushing. "We can try it both ways and see which one we prefer," she suggested.

Jack's grin broadened. "I'm so glad I married you!" he said with deep satisfaction.

"So am I. Oh, here's my aunt's house," Elizabeth announced, taking Jack's arm as they went up the path.


	76. An Honest Crew

It was a very merry luncheon, and it was late afternoon when they headed back to the _Pearl._ Jacob was staying with Aunt Agatha and Maggie at Agatha's house for the week that Jack and Elizabeth would be gone, so they enjoyed some privacy on the ship before the crew began to straggle back in the early evening.

Gibbs was the first one back, tapping lightly at Jack's cabin door. "Jack?" he called quietly.

"Come in, Gibbs," Jack called.

Gibbs pushed the door open slowly, peeking around it as if afraid of what he'd see.

"Come in, man, come in, I said!" Jack exclaimed. "What are you waiting for?"

Gibbs pushed open the door wider and came into the room. He looked at Jack and Elizabeth, both fully dressed to waistcoat and weapons. He breathed a sigh of relief. The two of them were sitting next to each other at the table poring over a map. *

"So… how did everything go, then?" Gibbs asked. "Everyone end up happy?"

"_Mister! Gibbs!_" Elizabeth exclaimed in a high, scandalized tone, her mouth falling open in shock.

Gibbs blushed bright red to the roots of his hair. "I meant, did you reach an accord during your meeting."

"_What?_ I _beg_ your pardon!" she exclaimed.

"With the governor, I mean! Your meeting with the governor! I didn't mean with your—well, with your—Ohhh." Gibbs groaned and covered his face with his hands. Not a good idea to piss off the captain's wife the day after the wedding.

He heard Elizabeth giggle, and he uncovered his face. Jack was chuckling behind his hand and Elizabeth was laughing outright.

"What—you—do you mean to say—ohhh!" Gibbs exclaimed in exasperation. He grumbled under his breath for a moment while the other two laughed at him, and then he pointed is finger at his captain's new wife. "Miss Elizabeth, that was Not Nice!" he informed her.

"But funny," Jack interjected, still chuckling.

Gibbs, thinking it over, started to smile. "I s'pose it was," he allowed. He gave Elizabeth a mock-glare. "Don't do that again, young lady! My heart may not stand the shock. Keep in mind I've known ye since ye were a wee lass!"

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm sorry for your heart, Mr Gibbs… but I can't make any promises. You were such a lovely target!"

At that, Gibbs laughed out loud. "Jack's going to have his hands full, with you," he said with admiration.

"Well, yes," Elizabeth answered, eyes downcast demurely. "I believe that was the general idea."

Flushing again, Gibbs cleared his throat and turned to Jack. "So, Jack—what happened? The meeting with the governor? Are ye pardoned? Employed? What?"

"We're pardoned _and_ employed. More than that, so are you." In a few words, Jack outlined the terms of the governor's pardon, and Gibbs was thrilled to hear that he and the rest of Jack's crew would be included in it.

"Don't tell the rest just yet, though," Jack ordered. "I'll make an announcement to everyone at once, and I've one or two other things to tell 'em as well. When everyone gets back, make sure to gather 'em up on deck for me before they fall into their hammocks."

"Aye, I'll do that, Jack. What are the other things ye have to tell 'em?"

"Ye'll hear 'em along with the rest, man. Now get out of here so Elizabeth and me can figure out our heading, eh?"

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs said.

"Let me know when the crew's all here and assembled, eh?" Jack ordered, his attention straying back to the chart on the table. "I'm thinking it was somewhere around here," he said to Elizabeth, pointing to the chart.

As Gibbs closed the door behind him he heard Elizabeth say, "No, I'm sure it was closer. It was only about a day and a half from Port Royale!"

Gibbs smiled and nodded to himself, satisfied that the captain's marriage wouldn't change things overmuch—Jack was still obsessed with charts and navigation, even if he had a wife around now.

The door clicked shut. Jack and Elizabeth looked at the door, and then smiled at each other. Jack rose and sauntered over to the door, locking it, while Elizabeth stood up and stretched. She took off her baldric and meandered her way over to the bed. "Think I was too mean to him?" she asked, pulling her boots off and starting to unbutton her shirt.

"Nay," Jack replied, pulling off his own shirt over his head. "'S good for him. Keep him on his toes!" He met her at the bed and drew her into his arms. "Be another couple of hours before all the men get back," he told her. "Gibbs won't be knockin' until then, either. He knows to leave me alone when I'm plottin'."

"Shall we 'figure out our heading,' then?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack smirked. "West-south-west, I'd say."

"Oh?" Elizabeth looked around and caught the angle of the late afternoon sun. It took her a moment to figure it out, and then she laughed. The bed was exactly west-south-west of where they stood. "Far be it from me to argue with the captain," she said.

* * *

A little over two hours later, Gibbs knocked on the door again. "Jack? Everyone's here and assembled!"

"Be right out!" Jack called out brightly. He pulled on his clothes rapidly, then shoved his feet into his boots. "Bloody hell, why didn't you wake me?" he grumbled quietly to Elizabeth, as he tied on his sash and pulled his coat on. She was already fully dressed with her hair combed and plaited, and was poring over the maps again.

She shrugged. "You're older than I am. I thought you needed your rest," she told him in a saucy tone.

"You'll pay for that, young missy," he warned, pouring out some water into the basin and splashing his face and head with it. He dried off his face and ran his fingers through his hair before grabbing his hat and shoving it onto his head. He held open the door. "Well? You coming?"

Elizabeth shoved on her own hat and followed him out.

The two of them exited the cabin and went up to the quarter-deck. Jack leaned on the railing. "Everyone here, Gibbs?" he asked.

"Aye, Captain. All present and accounted-for."

"Right. All hands, listen up. Due to my bravery in the battle and my humanitarian acts on behalf of the New Flimwell settlement prior to, the governor of Port Royale has offered me a royal pardon from 'any and all acts of piracy or outlawry of which subject has been previously accused'," he read from the governor's letter.

"Congratulations, Cap'n!" called out Scrum.

"Aye, well done, sir!" Derrick, the Scotsman from Blackbeard's crew, shouted agreement.

"Thank ye, lads!" Jack replied, beaming.

"Captain," Marty began. "What about us? What's in store for us?"

"Ah, Marty, that brings us to even more good news, along with a bit o' bad news."

Cotton's parrot squawked loudly and contributed, "Avast! Here be dragons!"

"No, no, nothing like that, Mr. Cotton. You lot think I could possibly sail the _Pearl_ without you? The good news is that ye've all been pardoned along with me and the king, here!"

The crew erupted into cheering, which Jack allowed for a couple of minutes before he held up his hand. "We've been offered paid employment for the governor, transportin' goods and settlers between here and New Flimwell, and helping to defend it from any future pirate attacks. It won't pay as well as piracy does on a good day, but every man jack of you knows that piracy has its bad days as well. And it'll be steady work and a damn sight safer than piratin'.

"Now, before we start workin' for the governor, if any of you prefer a life of crime, just speak a quiet word to Mr Gibbs and we'll drop you off in Tortuga, no questions asked. As long as ye leave our cities and our ships alone, as far as I'm concerned, ye can go yer own way. I know ye all to be good, decent men, and I expect ye to continue as such even if ye return to piracy. Needless to say, I hope all o' ye stay with us, but no one knows better than me the appeal of the pirate's life—especially for the young." He looked down with an indulgent smile at Simon and Charlie, the cabin boys.

Jack's smile faded and he went on. "Now hear this, lads: _after_ we start workin' for the governor, it'll be a different story. If any of ye leave my crew for piratin' _after_ we start workin' for the governor, yer pardons will be revoked and it'll be my bounden duty to hunt ye down an' turn you in. If any of ye do return to piracy, I warn ye: the city of Port Royale and the town of New Flimwell are under our protection for the foreseeable future. The _Black Pearl_, the _Empress_, the _Troubadour_, and the _Enforcer of the Code_—these ships, and any others traveling with us, are to be sacrosanct. Also, be aware that my father, Captain Teague, is personally charged with maintaining the safety of Port Royale. Anyone who threatens that safety, well, it'll be my job to track ye down, find ye, and deliver ye to him, personally… and then _he'll_ deal with you, _very_ personally."

Some of the crew looked alarmed, and a couple of sailors spoke to their neighbors in the hushed whispers that Jack had mentioned to Governor Anderson.

"Mark what I say now, gentlemen. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord of the Caribbean. My father is Captain Edward Teague, Keeper of the Code. My wife—" he gestured toward Elizabeth, who stood up straight and looked stern, "—is Captain Elizabeth Swann, duly elected King of the Brethren Court. So here's the bad news:

"Any attacks 'gainst any of us or any of those we're protectin', and ye'll receive no quarter when we blow you out of the water. And _after_ we blow you out of the water, you'll have to deal with Captain Turner of the _Flying Dutchman_, who as ye know happens to be a close personal friend of ours."

The crew to a man, winced at the thought. Some of them turned pale.

"Any questions?"

A couple of sailors started speaking out, but Jack held up his hand again. "If ye do, ask Mr Gibbs. I have things to do."

He descended to the deck again. "All right, Gibbs?" he asked his friend in a low voice.

"Aye, fine. Can't believe I'm pardoned along with ye!" Gibbs exclaimed with a smile.

"Free and clear, mate. Straight from the king. No strings attached. If ye want to leave the _Pearl_ and do something else, as long as it's honest, you'll still be free."

"Aye, that's worth a thought," Gibbs admitted. "In truth, I'm getting a bit old for all this running about."

"Wait! Gibbs, you can't leave me!" Jack exclaimed in a near-panic. "You leave and who else am I going to find to be First Mate and Quartermaster both? I'd have to hire Anamaria again, and you know she scares me!"

Gibbs laughed. "Can't have that, can we? All right, I guess I'll stay for a few more years anyway."

"Good man, Gibbs! Don't know what I'd do without you!" Jack said with a jovial clap on the back.

"You'd scurry around the ship all day, trying to stay two steps ahead of Anamaria, that's what you'd do!" Gibbs joshed him.

Jack caught Elizabeth's eye and smiled. "On the other hand, I'd pit my dearest Lizzie 'gainst Anamaria any day."

"That," Gibbs said thoughtfully, "is something I'd pay a hell of a lot to see."

* * *

_Note: They were poring over the map, not pouring over it. Pore means to study closely; pour means to dispense liquid from a container. You can pore over a book at the library, but if you pour over it you're likely to get your card revoked. Many people make this mistake, but my faithful readers never will again. Will you? WILL YOU?_


	77. Yet Another New Beginning and an Ending

After Jack and Elizabeth figured out the exact whereabouts of "their" island, the Black Pearl dropped them off there and Jack rowed them ashore. He arranged with Gibbs to return and pick them up in a week. Elizabeth helped Jack bring the supplies up from the boat and the two of them spread out a sail over the trees to act as a tent in case it rained, and a sun-shade if it didn't.

They spread out some blankets on the sand under the shade, and arranged some pillows. Elizabeth dusted the sand off her hands. "There, now," she said. "If only we could have been this comfortable our first time here!"

"Next thing we have to do," Jack said in his most authoritative captain's voice, "is to get you into this." He reached into a parcel and pulled out a long white shift that buttoned up over the bodice.

Elizabeth laughed. "Jack! You brought that?"

He nodded. "I've never forgotten the way you looked before, sweetheart. So now we're here, we're married, and you're going to help me live out a few fantasies about that night. Savvy?"

Elizabeth gave him a catlike smile. "Only if you do the same for me."

His eyebrows shot up. "You had fantasies? About me?"

She just smiled and started getting undressed to put on the shift. Jack gathered firewood and got out the rum.

It turned out that seductions on the bare sand were nice, but seductions on a blanket were far tidier and more comfortable. They had a good enough sampling of each to make an informed comparison.

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth enjoyed their week alone on the island very much, learning new things about each other daily, but were still glad to see the _Black Pearl _return. There was something about sleeping in a bed that no sandy island beach could match. Jack sailed the Pearl from there to Tortuga, where he only lost one crew member: Charlie, the cabin boy he had bartered from Barbossa. When Gibbs reported it, Jack merely shrugged. He didn't really blame the lad. Simon, younger and more attached to Jack and the rest of the crew, stayed on.

Everyone else was happy to stay with the _Pearl_, especially when Jack returned to Port Royale by way of _Isla Muerta_, and picked up almost all of the treasure that Calypso had disclaimed as a favor to Will. Unfortunately, this led to losing another crew member. After Jack and Gibbs had divided out everyone's share of the treasure, Cotton decided he had enough to retire on. He continued sailing with them for a few more months, but finally decided he'd had enough of the roving life. He elected to disembark the next time they went to Port Royale to start his retirement.

The _Black Pearl_ sailed into the harbor in the evening, and they threw a going-away party for Cotton. Rum flowed like water, and Cotton couldn't stop grinning at all the well-wishes from his shipmates. Finally the party wound down and at least half of the crew made it to their hammocks before passing out. The other half slept wherever they fell.

Elizabeth and Jack fell into their bed in the captain's cabin, too tired and tipsy to do anything but fall asleep. In the morning, Gibbs and Derrick rowed Cotton and his parrot to shore… and returned to the _Pearl_ with an additional two passengers and a couple of big smiles.

Jack was awake by then, and greeted the guests quite happily. Then he listened to their request and laughed out loud and agreed.

Ten minutes later he swaggered into his cabin, calling out, "Oh, Lizzie, darling!" in a sing-song voice. "Get dressed and come out on deck. There's a surprise waiting for you there."

Elizabeth groaned and rolled over in bed, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head.

Jack stared, completely distracted. "Oh, God, I do love it when you stretch."

"You do realize I do it only for you?" was her sleepy but playful reply. "My own waking has nothing to do with it."

"I appreciate the sacrifices you make for me, love," Jack said, coming over to kiss her. His kisses traveled across her cheek to her ear, which he nipped, before sliding his mouth down to her shoulder and kissing her there as well.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and smiled, holding him close. "Jack, what's the surprise?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, slipping his arms around her and tugging her closer.

"The surprise? The one you woke me for, and told me was on the deck?"

"It'll wait." Jack took several minutes and kissed his young wife thoroughly, rucking up her nightgown and tousling her hair in the process.

Finally he sat back and looked at her with approval. "There, now. You look thoroughly ravished."

"Though sadly without much in the way of actual ravishment," Elizabeth complained.

"No time, love. I told you—your surprise is out there waiting for you! Now, hurry up and get dressed, and don't distract me again, you naughty little baggage."

Elizabeth knew better than to get into such a ridiculous argument with him, and sighed as she stood up and started to run a brush through her hair. "So what's the surprise? Don't tell me—it's an undead monkey." She ran a brush through her hair, quickly plaited her it into a queue down the back, and tied it with a wide bit of ribbon.

He looked wounded. "Our guests won't appreciate you calling them that, love. Come on, shake a leg!"

"Aye, sir," Elizabeth replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she pulled on her trousers and shirt.

"Go on out; I just have to get something in here," Jack told her, rummaging through the drawers of his desk.

Elizabeth smiled and rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes, and left the cabin. Out on the deck, she saw the guests and smiled. "Aunt Agatha!" she cried, running to hug her aunt. "Captain Teague, how nice to see you again!" she greeted her aunt's companion with an affectionate kiss on his weathered cheek. He smiled and kissed her back, sniffing at her appreciatively. It had become a standing joke between then that "daughters always smell better than sons."

Jack followed her out of the cabin, holding a leather-bound book under his arm. He was smirking. "All hands on deck," he ordered.

Mr Gibbs took up the cry. "All hands on deck!"

"What brings you to the _Pearl _instead of waiting for us to come ashore?" Elizabeth asked the guests. Agatha only gave her an enigmatic smile and waited while the crew gathered.

When they were all there, Jack flipped open the book to where he had marked it with a ribbon. "Dearly beloved," he began. "We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Captain Edward Robert Teague and Agatha Ainsley-Swann—"

Elizabeth gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. "Aunt Agatha!" she squeaked.

Agatha smiled, with a teasing glint in her eye as she took Captain Teague's hand. "What, dear? Did you think you were the only Swann with a preference for pirates?"

* * *

FIN

* * *

_Note: This marks the final chapter of the actual story. Thank you all so much for reading, especially those who reviewed regularly; some of you have even become my 'net-friends through this story, so a special thanks goes out to you lot-you know who you are._

_There is a lot more that I have written, but decided to delete because it wasn't really part of this story, and didn't move the action forward at all. One of my reviewers warned me about letting the denouement run on too long, and she was right; she also had no way of knowing that this was destined to be the last chapter even without her warning (which I do appreciate anyway, because I do often suffer from "don't-know-when-to-end-it-itis:). My thanks go to Anonymous Marie for reinforcing my decision to end it here. :)_

_I am marking this story as complete; however, I am planning to add the extra stuff I have written as a series of deleted scenes and unrelated oneshots after this final chapter. If you're happy with this ending, feel free to stop reading now; if not, keep me on your story alerts and you'll still get to see the extra stuff, like the cut scenes on a DVD. I already have a chapter about the island honeymoon, a little bit about Jack's siblings, and a few other things already written. If there's anything about their future lives that you'd like to see, let me know and if I get inspired to, I'll write a little extra something for you. If not, be not offended; the muse strikes where she will._

_Cheers, everyone, for coming along with me on this ride. _

_Best,  
Clev_


	78. Ch 27 Deleted Scene: Jack's Background

_Note: This scene fits right into the last part of chapter 27_, where it says "see footnote."

Jack came up close behind her. "Careful there, darling," he said. "Don't want to let Teague catch you glaring daggers at me mum. 'E was right fond of her."

Elizabeth whirled in surprise, completely distracted from her aggravation. "That's your mother?" she asked, shocked. He nodded. She looked back at the painting more closely.

The first thing that struck her was how much Jack must trust her enough to tell her this, because his mother was black.

"Oh, my," she said in surprise. "Was she... she wasn't a slave, was she?"

"Not her. Her mother was, briefly, but she killed the slaver and escaped into the hills almost as soon as she was unloaded from the ship. She met up with a Taino tribe and married their English interpreter. He was a full Taino, called himself Mabo Smith. They only had one child 'fore he got killed in a Carib raid. So me mum was half African and half Taino."

"She was beautiful," Elizabeth said honestly. It was true; her English eyes were unaccustomed to seeing beauty in dark faces, but Jack's mother had clear skin the color of coffee with cream; thick, wavy, blue-black hair done up in an English style to match her English clothing; and a hint of mischief in her expression. She had a narrow, straight Taino nose, and full, African lips. There was a bit of a smile lurking in one corner of her mouth. Her eyes were intense, velvety-black. Jack had inherited those, along with her nose and hair. She _was _beautiful.

"What was her name? How did your father meet her?"

"He was shipwrecked and was the only survivor. She's the one what found him. He brought her back to England with him. In England she went by Sophie, but her real name was Senya," he answered. "Me dad wasn't allowed to marry her lawfully there, but they did have a tribal wedding after they returned to the Caribbean."

He was quiet for a moment, remembering. "I was ten when she died." He flashed a quick half-smile at Elizabeth, as an apology for getting so serious.

"And then Teague remarried? You mentioned a stepmother once. And siblings."

"Aye. When mum died, he brought me back to England with him for a bit, and that's where he met me step-mum. She was nice enough. English lady, name of Roberta Adams. Pretty. Smelled of roses. She had twins, as I told you."

"Adam and Sarah, I remember."

"Aye. Sarah married a baron, and Adam inherited some property from an uncle, so he's a landed gentleman now." Jack smiled fondly. "A proper lord."

"You sound proud of them."

"Aye, well, I had a lot to do with the raising of them, once me step-mum got over me being a mulatto, that is. Had to, with her being so ill and Teague off sailing all the time. I like knowing they're doing well."

"Did—did she have difficulty getting over it?"

Jack shrugged. "No more than any other Englishwoman might have had. Especially once Teague talked to her about it. Told her he wasn't ashamed of Senya, and wasn't ashamed of me, and if Bertie was ashamed of me, then he'd take me and the twins away from her to be raised by the Taino. He may possibly have given her to understand that the Taino were cannibals, with her not knowin' the difference between them and the Caribs."

Elizabeth laughed. "I take it she straightened out then?"

He nodded and grinned. "Fell right into line, and after a while she started to like me anyway. It helped that she saw me with her babies so much. They loved me. Still do, for all I haven't seen 'em in years."

"Do you stay in contact?"

He shrugged. "We write, sometimes, when we think we can get away with it." He turned to her. "How about you, love? How do you feel about me being mulatto?"

"I haven't had time to think about it," Elizabeth answered honestly.

"Going to stop being friends now?"

"Not that I know of. Why? I can't see how this would change anything between us, can you?"

"It often does, which is why I don't tell people often. Figured you were all right to tell."

"Thank you, Jack. She really was beautiful—I don't fault Teague's taste at all. And you look a bit like her, too."

"You're saying that I'm beautiful, then? I've always thought so," Jack said, striking a pose for her.

Elizabeth shrugged and nodded. "Well... yes." Jack slanted a surprised, black-eyed gaze down at her and she blushed and turned away.

Jack laughed. "On that note, I'd better take me leave," he told her. On an impulse, he reached out one daring hand and brushed his fingers gently against her cheek. "Good night, 'Lizabeth." And he put his hat on and was gone.

* * *

_I decided to delete this scene originally because I didn't want to get into a potential problem with racism and people ascribing modern views to historical figures, like what happens in American schools when students read Mark Twain, for example. In real life, once Elizabeth found out that Jack was of mixed blood, it probably **would** have changed things between them, and she certainly would not have married him. Mixed marriages were scandalous enough between a white man and a black woman, but between a white woman and a black man, it was so far beyond the pale that Jack would probably have been killed over it, once people found out. (Dark-complected people were usually thought by the English to be sub-human, and a romantic relationship with someone like that to be disgusting in the extreme.) I like to think that Elizabeth would have been more open-minded, but in real life she might not have been. Again, thank God for fanfiction! :)_

_Considering that the only glimpse we get to see of Jack's mother in the films is a shrunken head, I thought it much more likely that she would have been either an African or a Caribbean native than an Englishwoman. From what little we can see of her features in that scene, she didn't look terribly English. Being bi- or tri-racial would also explain Jack's darker coloring and dreadlocked hair._


	79. Honeymoon 1: Doppelgangers

_Note: This scene is the first part of a trilogy of vignettes that take place on the rum-runner's island during the honeymoon. These chapters are __not an official part of the story, so if you prefer to read it without these chapters, please do. I never intended to insert them as part of the story, so I did not take any special pains to keep the plotting in them consistent. I wrote them__ mainly meant as an experiment, an exploration of the first, early days of a marriage, when new spouses often have __clashing __expectations, and end up learning some surprising things about someone they thought they knew pretty well already! _

___These three chapters deal with adult themes. Please show good judgment over whether to read them or not. They mention the physical aspect of marriage a little more openly than the "wedding night" chapter. I've recently had someone point out that some readers may wish to avoid reading such things, so even though it's still not very graphic, I am making a greater effort to label them beforehand.  
_

___A special note to my younger readers and the more sensitive ones: please make a responsible choice about whether or not to read these chapters. For the young ones, and you know who you are, remember that it's more mature to make wise decisions about one's reading material than it is to push the limits and read things before you're really ready to. If you want to wait, it'll probably still be here when you're older! (And if not, then shoot me an email and I'll send 'em to ya.)  
_

* * *

The night that Elizabeth and Jack got dropped off on the tiny island, they were preoccupied with the aforementioned bonfires and seductions in the sand. The morning, however, Elizabeth unpacked the extra parcel of things they had brought from the ship. Gibbs had simply dropped it into the longboat the previous evening with no comment but a smile.

"Jack, did you see these?" she asked. "They're from your father. A wedding present, presumably." She held up the pair of gorgeous, leather-bound journals with a card from Teague tucked into one of them.

Jack came over to see, and let out a long whistle. "Nice!" He picked up one of them and flipped through it. Thick, smooth paper securely sewn to the leather binding, and gilt edges. "This'll be my new log book for when we start working for the governor," he announced. "'Twouldn't do to have _his_ work written in the same book as all that piracy beforehand. Especially that last ship we took! De Vrees' ship, with all the lace, only a few hours out of Port Royale!"

He lifted the book to his nose and inhaled. "Nothing like the smell of a fresh log book," he said with satisfaction.

Elizabeth smiled at Jack's expression of enjoyment over a new book to write in. Sometimes he didn't quite succeed in hiding his vast intelligence, no matter how hard he tried to. She held up the other blank book. "I'd like to use one of them for a personal journal, if you don't mind. Aunt Agatha suggested we write down a factual account of all our supernatural adventures so far. You know, for posterity. Or for Jacob, at the very least!"

Jack waved his acquiescence. "'Course, love. Which one d'ye want?"

"I'll have the brown one. You can take the black one, to match the _Black Pearl_."

"Might have known you'd insist they match," he teased, switching books with her. He hadn't known how compulsive she was until she started sailing with him.

"Oh, shut it," she grumbled, pushing him.

He hauled her in close for a kiss, laughing, and then straightened up again. "Think I'll go see if I can find us some lunch," he said. "'M a bit peckish. You?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "You know, I saw a fallen tree with a big stone next to it, over there on the other side of the island. I'll bet I can make it into an acceptable writing desk, especially since Teague also sent along some ink and a few quills. I think I'm going to get started on the writing now. D'you mind?"

"Have at it, darling. Show it to me later, eh?"

"I will, and perhaps you'll be adding to it." She smiled. "I may be a while, though."

"I'll be here," Jack quipped, looking around the tiny, empty island. Where else would he go?

She smiled and picked up the quills and ink, and headed over to the other side of the island. Jack relaxed in the shade for a while and ate some of the bread and cheese they had brought with them, and then went fishing for a couple of hours. Pleased with his catch, he cleaned the fish and set it out on their "cooking stone" near the fire ring.

Elizabeth still wasn't back.

Jack didn't want to interrupt her, as she'd wanted to be left alone to write, but all the same he was getting antsy. He didn't worry about her safety; the island was too small for her to get into any trouble. But all the same, he was going to need her back pretty soon.

He lay down and tried to sleep, but his eyes kept popping open again after a few seconds. He jumped up and began pacing the beach. He couldn't run, like he had in the past, because Elizabeth would be sure to see him and ask what he was running from. He tried to keep moving purposefully, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Maybe if he could just see her, _they_ would stay away? If she took too much longer, they'd be here—oh.

Too late.

They were here.

Jack groaned and collapsed on the ground. "Bugger!" he muttered as he looked up to see… himself.

Captain Jack Sparrow stood there with his arms folded, leaning against a tree. He was dressed in full regalia with coat, sash, pistols, sword, and tricorne hat—Jack noted clinically that it was his old one that he'd lost in London, not the new one that Elizabeth had given him in Shipwreck—with his long hair beaded and dreadlocked, and his long beard braided with Tia Dalma's beads in it. "What's the matter, Jackie?" he taunted.

"What do you want with me?" Jack asked him.

"What happened to you, Jackie? You've sold out! Hardly worth calling 'pirate' anymore. Oh, that's right. You're _not_ a pirate anymore, are you?" Contempt dripped from the Captain's tone. "You've gone all _respectable,_" he mocked.

"Well, I had to, didn't I?" Jack protested. "I've a family to think of now!"

"Family!" the Captain scoffed. "Jackie, you're too smart for that. You let some woman talk you into signing your life away for the sake of a pretty face and a few curves! _Precious_ few curves," he added, grimacing in Jack's direction. "Honestly, Jackie, if you did have to get yerself shackled, ye could have done better than that. Woman looks like a stick!"

"I like the way she looks!" Jack defended hotly. "I think she's beautiful. I love her, in fact!"

The Captain clucked his tongue at Jack. "You love her. The woman who fed you to the kraken. You love the woman who chose the whelp over you. You'll be taking the whelp's leavings, have you thought of that?"

"It's not like they had much time together," Jack explained. "Anyway, like I told the whelp already—he may have had her once, but I'm going to have her forever!"

"Forever is a long time to be tied down to the same woman, Jackie," the Captain put on a mockingly sympathetic expression. "Especially one that's shaped like a pole, when there are so many more curvier ones out there. She only wanted a father for her bastard anyway. She doesn't really love you!"

"She does!" Jack cried. "She told me she does. She tells me all the time!"

"Aye, and women never lie, do they?" the Captain sneered.

"This one doesn't," came the voice of a new Jack. This one was completely clean-shaven, with short hair and nary a hint of kohl around his eyes. He wore an earnest expression as he sat cross-legged in the sand a few feet away from Jack.

"This woman doesn't tell lies, and she didn't trick you into anything. I agree you shouldn't have married her, but it's not because you're too good for her. It's because she's too good for you! You've taken an angel of a lady and dragged her down into your pirate filth. Now, really, Jack—if you truly loved her, you'd have left her alone! She could have done so much better than you."

"Well, that's true," Jack admitted.

"Poppycock!" exclaimed the Captain. "It's her that isn't' good enough for us!"

"Don't listen to him, Jack" the earnest Jack said, creeping closer. "You know the truth. Miss Swann was a lady, a governor's daughter, and _you_ made her into a pirate. You made her into the king of the pirates, even! You sailed away and left her on that hillside to fend for herself while you went chasing off after the Fountain of Youth with another woman!"

"I was press-ganged!" Jack cried.

Earnest Jack went on relentlessly. "You still abandoned her for over a year! Left her to have her baby all alone, this woman you claim to love. You're the reason Angelica went after her in the first place. And speaking of other women, how many have there been, Jack? Hmm? Do you even know? Does Miss Swann know that you've been using whore's tricks to pleasure her with?"

"Whore's tricks!" the Captain snickered derisively. "How appropriate for her!"

"Shut up!" Jack yelled at him. He looked back at Earnest Jack. "She already knows about my past. Why would she care? At least I've been pleasing her! Which is more than the whelp did."

"Aye, but in the back of her mind you know she's always wondering how many other women you've done this with. Will hadn't shagged anyone else before her, and she knew it. She didn't either, except for her lawful husband. She came to ye pure, Jack, and what have you offered her in return? A scarred, half-blooded, aging body, the best of which has already been given and used up by whores the world over. She'll be lucky if you don't give her the pox! Didn't get much of a bargain with you, did she, Jack?"

"I can't help that! I've been a pirate me whole life. Swiving whores is what we _do _when we make port."

"Hear, hear!" chimed in Captain Jack Sparrow with a leer.*

Jack's voice went a little higher as he defended himself. "I didn't know I was going to marry a genuine lady, now, did I? I don't have that many scars, and my mum was beautiful. And I'm not that old. And I _don't_ have the pox!"

"It's a miracle if ye don't. Like I said, ye really shouldn't have married her. You ought to release her, you know. This could all be hushed up and she could be free to make a real marriage, Jack."

"She _did_ make a real marriage," Jack said quietly. "Everything vowed, signed, and witnessed properly. There's no getting out of it now, for either of us, so you can both just BUGGER OFF!" He shouted the last two words.

There was a pause, and then, "There's still one way," said Earnest Jack.

"Aye," agreed the Captain, with an evil grin. "There is."

"If you killed yourself, Elizabeth would be free, and she could find someone _decent_ to wed next time." Earnest Jack made it sound so reasonable.

"_What?_" Jack and the Captain exclaimed together.

The Captain continued. "Don't be daft. If he kills her, then he'd be free to _not_ marry again. He could return to piracy and a life of complete freedom!"

"And loneliness," Earnest Jack pointed out.

"Eh?" Jack asked.

"Ah, now, when has our Jackie ever been lonely?" the Captain laughed. "There's always some pleasurable company to be had for the right coin. And he has his mates and his crew to boot!"

"Aye!" Jack agreed.

Earnest Jack ignored him. He stood up and faced the Captain, with Jack still sitting on the ground like a child looking up at them both.

Earnest Jack said, "He avoids his 'mates' 'cause he owes 'em all money. His crew and his pleasurable company, he has to pay to stay with him. There's not one single soul who voluntarily chooses to associate with him without he pays 'em for it!"

"No one else associates with us because no one else is good enough for us! We don't need anyone else! We're Captain Jack Sparrow!" the Captain boasted.

Earnest Jack shook his head sadly and gestured toward Jack, sitting alone on the sand. "Not one single person in the world that he can trust, or even call 'friend.' If that's not loneliness, I don't know what is."

As the Captain started arguing with Earnest Jack, Jack covered his ears. "Not listening," he muttered. "Not listening. Not listening."

The arguing got louder, with both doppelgangers shaking fingers in each other's faces, and Jack drew up his knees in a protective pose. He rested his forehead on his knees, and clasped his hands over his head. He started rocking back and forth on the ground. "Not listening, not listening, not listening," he chanted to himself.

Then something Earnest Jack had said a moment ago suddenly broke into Jack's conscious mind. "No," Jack said, looking up at them suddenly. "You're wrong. You're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!"

"What are we wrong about, Jackie?" the Captain asked.

Jack pointed his finger up at him. "_You're_ wrong that we don't need anyone else," he said. He pointed up at Earnest Jack next. "And _you're _wrong that there's no one I can trust or call 'friend.' Wrong, wrong, wrong, the both o' ye, and I'm not listenin'!"

"Who do you need?" the Captain asked.

Earnest Jack spoke simultaneously, "Who can you trust and call friend?"

Jack chose to answer both questions at once, by yelling as loud as he could. "ELIZABETH! Elizabeth! Elizabeth, where are you? ELIZABETH!"

* * *

_* Note: Another error I see all the time is when someone agrees with someone else, the author will write, "Here, here!" rather than "Hear, hear." It's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. "Here, here" means "right here, at this very location. "Hear, hear" means "Listen to him; he's right; I agree with him." When you agree with someone and want others to listen to him too, why would you talk about his physical location? You wouldn't. You'd say, "Hear, hear!" I just know that none of my cherished readers would **ever** make that mistake, but I thought I'd point it out just in case. _


	80. Honeymoon 2: Healing an Infection

_Note: Potentially controversial chapter with a bit of sex and gore in it (not at the same time), so I repeat, please read responsibly. Explanation at the bottom of the page._

* * *

Elizabeth had written in the journal for a long time, but then had put down the quill and relaxed against a tree for a while. The warm sun collaborated with the wind shushing through the palm trees and the sound of the surf to lull her into a relaxing doze.

She'd been asleep for a couple of hours when heard Jack call her name frantically. She woke with a gasp and leaped to her feet. She grabbed up the long skirt of her shift, and ran full-tilt toward the other side of the island.

Jack was sitting on the ground in the shade of the palm trees. He was sitting up in a fetal position, with his knees drawn up in front of him and his head resting on them, rocking back and forth. He was muttering things like "Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!" and "Not listening!" and every so often he lifted his head, eyes clenched shut, and bellowed out her name again.

"I'm here, Jack!" she cried, running over to him. She slid to her knees in front of him and wrapped her arms around him as he rocked. "I'm right here."

His head whipped up and he stared at her. "Are ye real?" he demanded.

"Yes, of course I'm real."

"Prove it." At her puzzled look, he clarified, "Prove that I'm not imagining you. Tell me something that I could never have imagined."

Elizabeth thought a moment. "When I was a child, I used to play pirates with Will. That is, until Father found out."

Jack's mouth curled up, but he shook his head. "I have no trouble whatsoever imaginin' that, darling. Tell me something else. Something I'd never even dream of."

Elizabeth remembered something and smiled. "When you sacked Port Nassau with no shooting, my father laughed about it all morning. He'd been at school with the governor of Nassau and hated him. He was cheering for you that day, my father was."

Jack was startled into a laugh. "That works—I could never have imagined that!"

He blinked and sobered, and then his dark eyes bored into hers. "That means you're real!" He threw his arms around her and clutched her tightly. "You're here. You're real. You're not leavin' me, love?"

"I'm not leaving you, Jack. I'm here. Right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're stayin' with me?" he pressed, sounding a little plaintive.

"'Till death do us part," she reminded him.

Jack breathed in a huge sigh of relief and dropped his head down on her shoulder. His arms clutched her convulsively, a little too tight as he hauled her up against him. He kissed her, roughly, and gathered a fistful of her hair to move her head out of the way. He attacked her neck with his lips and teeth. He leaned back in the sand and pulled her on top of him, running his hands down her back and pressing himself hard up against her.

So far, Jack had been gentle with her, his touches teasing and sweetly suggestive. This was very different. He had never been so forceful before, so frantic. What on earth had happened to him? Elizabeth wondered as he pulled her down for another unrelenting kiss. If this were just his fierce ardor, Elizabeth would be thrilled. This wasn't just passion, though. This was something completely different, and it was worrisome.

He rolled her off him and pressed her down into the sand, kissing her insistently while he unbuttoned his flies. She realized what he was doing, and at the same moment, realized that she would let him do it. She knew that if she asked him to stop, he would stop instantly. She knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, he was badly frightened and apparently needed this reassurance. She put her arms around his naked shoulders and drew him closer, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his temple. He reached down and roughly pulled up the skirt of her shift, almost tearing it in his haste.

He took her right there in the sand with no further preliminaries, and for the first time he didn't give any attention to her pleasure. It was not lovemaking as she'd experienced it so far. It was a thing of fear and desperation, and Jack didn't seem to enjoy it much more than she did. He was nearly sobbing as he moved over her, and when he finished he collapsed on top of her body and she felt his tears dripping down her neck.

She held him like that for a minute or two, and then he rolled off and lay beside her, propped up on his elbow so he could look at her. He wiped his face impatiently, and then ran his fingers through her hair and began to kiss her. Brief, sweet, tender little kisses, on her lips, cheeks, eyelids, chin, nose. He paused and gazed into her eyes seriously as he caressed her hair and neck with gentle touches. His eyes had that soft, open expression that she loved, and he smiled tenderly at her before he kissed her again as if he couldn't help himself.

Elizabeth was mystified, but decided that kissing was a good place to start figuring out what was wrong with him. She rolled onto her side to face him and pressed her body against his. "Jack," she whispered between kisses. "You know I love you, don't you?"

He nodded, kissing her again with gentle lips and soft tongue.

"And I know you love me."

"Aye, I do," he whispered back. "My lady. My love. My sweet, ruthless, beautiful pirate lass. My Elizabeth." He stroked her hair, smiling at her with such love in his eyes that it brought a lump to her throat.

"So you don't have to be afraid to tell me… what was all that about?" she asked, nodding at the spot beside them where he had crouched so fearfully and then claimed her body with such desperation.

"Oh." Jack actually blushed a little. "I'm really sorry about that, sweetheart. Didn't give you fair value, did I? Needed you too much. But I'll make it up to you. Next time will be all for you, I promise."

Elizabeth sat up and straightened out her shift. "I couldn't care less about… er, 'fair value,' as you put it, or about next time. What I want to know is what happened to make you need me so much, _this_ time? What were you afraid of?"

"Nothing," Jack replied uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it. It'll be all right, love. I'll take good care of you next time."

Elizabeth brushed aside his concern. "Jack, I said I don't care about that. Not when you were so hurt and frightened, and then you went at me so… urgently. I don't care about getting fair value as long as you're all right. This—it wasn't nothing. Did we have visitors I don't know about? Is the island haunted? What happened to you? Tell me, love. I want to help." She leaned forward and took his hand, holding it tightly in both of hers as he lay on the sand looking up at her.

Jack was silent. He opened his mouth a couple of times and started to speak, but closed it again.

"You don't mind?" he asked finally. "I mean, about—" he gestured toward the spot where he'd taken her, and then realized his flies were still undone. He pulled his other hand away from hers to re-button them as he went on, "'Cause I kind of got something for nothing, just then. Doesn't feel right."

"I'm your wife, Jack, not a business transaction. We don't have to worry about keeping things even between us. I'm yours if you need me—for _anything_. You don't owe me anything, except that I'd really like to know what happened and that you're all right."

He sat up and took her hands again. "Not sure how to tell you," he admitted.

"Just say it."

"If I tell you, you might leave me, and that'll make it worse," he argued.

"I've already said I'm not leaving. You're mine. You're _my Jack_."

The endearment seemed to reassure him, and he took a deep breath. "Thing is, it isn't the island that's haunted. It's me."

"You're haunted? You mean… literally?"

"Aye. Literally. I have ghosts."

"Tell me about them."

"It happens whenever I'm alone for any real length of time. I tend to go a bit weird."

"Weird, how?"

"You know. Mad. Off me head. I start talkin' to meself and seein' things what aren't there. It isn't every time I'm alone, mind. Bein' alone for an hour or two is one thing—I like it, and even need it once in a while. But much longer than a couple hours and I start to go off again."

"Any idea why?"

"O' course. It's 'cause of the Locker." At her troubled look, he squeezed her hands and went on. "I was in Davy Jones' Locker for nearly a year, all by me onesie. No one else around, ever, and the loneliness drove me round the bend for a long time. I started hallucinating, imagining copies of myself, all over the ship. Talked to some of 'em, killed some, got killed by others. Even after you came and got me, some of 'em were still there with me. Little ones, livin' in my hair and whatnot. Took me ages to get rid of 'em. But the thing is, they were all me—different parts of me. Well, all except for the chicken," he added thoughtfully. "I have no idea where he came from."

"What chicken?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack waved aside her question with a dramatic gesture. "Ignorance is bliss, my darling. You're happier not knowing."

"So what are the ghosts that haunt you?" she asked.

"Well, they're always me, aren't they?" Jack replied. "Just like in the Locker. They only show up when I've been alone for a while, and they talk to me. Tell me things. Try to get me to do things, foolish things. Argue with me. Argue with each other. They keep hammerin' and hammerin' at me till I'm almost ready to scream! And it just gets worse and worse until someone comes and I'm not alone anymore. In the Locker I went completely barmy and tried to off meself more'n once. Just wanted them to shut the hell up. Never worked, though, 'cause I was already dead."

He shook his head. "Thing is, Liz darling, bein' by meself for very long—well, it's a bit like torture for me."

He told her about the quest for Ponce de Leon's ship, when Blackbeard had sent him off into the jungle by himself to find the silver chalices. He had found the ship and turned to share the news, but there was no one there. He'd had to run and run and keep on running the whole time he'd been gone, just to keep the hallucinations from catching up to him.

"And then when Gibbs found me, he got angry and demanded to know why I was working with Barbossa. Well, I had to lie to him, didn't I? Told him it was for Angelica's sake. Me best mate, and I couldn't tell him that as long as I was with Barbossa, none of the doppel-Jacks would find me."

"Oh, Jack!" Elizabeth said, her heart breaking. "I am so very sorry, my love. I'm the one who sent you there! It's my fault!"

"It's Davy Jones' fault," Jack corrected gently. He sighed and let go of her hands. "I didn't intend to trap you into marriage with a bloke what's off his head some of the time, honestly I didn't. It's just that I haven't had any ghosts for a long time. Well, maybe one or two," he conceded. "But I just didn't think to let you know about 'em 'cause it's been so long."

"So I take it you had them return today, while I was over there writing?"

"Aye. Two."

"What did they say to you?"

"They both thought I shouldn't've married you."

"Why not?"

"One of 'em thought you were no better than a whore and had tricked me into marrying you for your son's sake. The other one thought you're as far above me as the stars in the sky, and that I've spoiled and sullied your angelic purity by draggin' ye down into piracy with me."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Yes, but do you hear me complaining about it?"

Jack's mouth curled up on one side, but then the smile disappeared again.

"And you say they're both aspects of you?" Elizabeth asked. "So there is a part of you that thinks I'm just like all the other strumpets, and another part that thinks I'm an angel?"

"Not the rational parts, love!" Jack hastened to explain. "I did say I'd gone quite a ways round the bend, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, so it's obvious that I won't be able to convince those parts of you by rational means." Elizabeth thought a moment, and then stood up. "Come with me," she ordered. "Bring your dagger."

Jack scrambled to his feet, dagger in hand, and followed her.

Elizabeth led him to the beach beside their fire ring, where they had first made love together the night before. She knelt down, pulling him down next to her. She took the dagger from him, tested the edge, and in one swift motion, cut open her palm. It was the same palm that Barbossa had cut years before, thinking she was Bill Turner's daughter. She held up her hand and let the blood drip down onto the sand.

"This is where we came together on this island, so here is where I make you this promise… in blood, Jack. No matter what I may ever have to say in front of other people, during a negotiation or what-have-you, you can always know that I'm telling you the truth right now, here on this spot. Are you listening?"

Jack nodded, his expression rapt, his eyes intent on hers.

"You have my love, and you have my loyalty, as long as we both live. You and I are two sides of the same coin, as you've pointed out to me more than once. No matter what the crazy parts of you try to tell you, _I'm_ telling you here and now that I will not leave you, and I never want you to leave me." She smiled. "Savvy?"

Jack nodded. "Aye," he replied hoarsely. He took the dagger from her and sliced open his own palm. He let the blood drip down and mingle with hers on the sand. "You have my love and my loyalty, 'Lizabeth, for as long as we both live. I give ye my word, no matter what the crazy parts of me try to get me to do, that I will not let them drive me from you. We're peas in a pod, darling," he reminded her with a smile. "I give ye my own blood oath on it, right here on the spot where I 'worshiped you with my body'… well, one of the spots, anyway," he said, glancing around the island. "Under the trees was nice, and there was the rum cellar—but this here's the first one. That's symbolic, innit?" he looked back at her, his expression so hopeful that Elizabeth had to smile.

"It's just perfect, Jack."

He reached out and clasped her hand in his, with their cut palms pressed together. "Until we have a child together, this'll have to do as a symbol of our joining. You're a part of me now, Lizzie, and I'm a part of you."

Elizabeth reached out with her other hand and pulled him in for a deep, thorough kiss, still keeping their palms pressed together.

Jack gave the kiss his full attention, hugging her close as they knelt together on the sand. When they finally parted, she smiled at him.

"Why do I feel like we just got married all over again?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Bit more primitive than our other wedding, but it felt like the right thing to do." He let go of her hand and grimaced. "Ouch!" he said. "Painful, too."

Elizabeth bared her teeth. "Yes, that's what I was thinking, too. It's all symbolic and primal and I'm glad we did it—I just hope they don't get infected. Who knows what's been on that knife?"

Jack stood up and offered her his good hand to help her up with him. "I hate to say this, sweetest of Elizabeths, but in order to keep 'em from getting infected we'll have to wash 'em out in seawater."

"What? In salt water? You want me to pour salt water into a huge cut?"

"Believe me, I'm not looking forward to it either but it has to be done. Cuts can fester and turn septic awfully quickly here." He kept hold of her hand as he walked toward the sea.

"No, wait! I'm sure it's not that bad! Your knife is probably very clean! It won't fester, I'm sure of it!" Elizabeth was frantic.

Jack was inexorable. "Come on, love."

"Jack! It's going to hurt!"

"Aye. Best get it over with." He pulled her after him into the water.

"But there's blood! It may call sharks!"

"We'll be quick," he promised, dragging her deeper. The water was up to her waist now, her skirt swirling around her legs in the waves.

"Honestly, Jack, I don't know why I put up with you!"

Jack turned to her. "It's because if I didn't want to wash out my cut, you'd do the exact same thing to me that I'm about to do to you."

"What's that?" she asked, fearful.

"This." He leaped at her her and tackled her directly into the water. They both came up sputtering and dripping, with their hands stinging fiercely.

"Ouch!" "Owww!" they both yelled in pain at once. Holding their cut hands below the level of the water, they both grimaced and clutched each other until the throbbing lessened a bit. It took several minutes.

"Damn, that hurts!" Jack hissed, lifting his hand out of the water and looking at it. "Remind me not to do that again!"

"And how do you plan to keep your cut from putrefying next time, then?"

"I could just use the rum," he said, starting to slosh his way back to the beach. "'Course, that'll likely hurt a hell of a lot worse."

"Isn't that just like you?" she groused, following him out of the water. She lowered her voice and imitated his usual drunken-sounding, working-class accents. Dramatic, Jack-like gestures completed her delivery."'Oh, there's something painful coming up? Well, let me run right towards it! Going to cost me eternity for the sake of thirteen years? Sure, Mr Jones, I'll make that deal! Sao Feng feels insulted? Let me walk right into that face-punch! Terrified woman wants to chain me up for a sea monster? Oooh, how wonderful! I think I'll give her a kiss! Gigantic kraken opening its maw five feet away? Here, let me dive right into that! Evil woman from my past wants to kill me? Oh, I simply _must_ swim over to her in the middle of a giant sea battle to give her the chance! Just can't help myself! Sea goddess wants to kill me to bring back the woman I love? Why, absolutely, Tia, be my guest!'

Jack had stopped dead and slowly turned his head to watch her. He drew his brows together and he gave her a glare.

Elizabeth gulped, thinking she'd gone too far.

His cold, flinty gaze swept down her body and then back up to her face. He turned fully around to face her. "Are—you—aware—" he growled, each word enunciated and deliberate. He let the sentence hang for a moment, while Elizabeth seemed to shrink a little, and then he finished it in a normal conversational tone. "—Of just how transparent your shift is?" He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her roughly close to him so he could plant a loud, smacking kiss on the side of her head.

She laughed a little in relief, and looked down. Sure enough, it was hiding nothing. "Jack, you didn't even give me time to take it off first. Now it's all wet and clammy," she griped.

He shrugged. "So take it off now. I don't mind."

"But then I'll get sand all over me."

"Stay on the blanket, and I'll see you don't get bored while it's dryin'," he urged. He waggled his eyebrows, and she giggled.

"You still don't owe me anything, you know. I let you take me like that because I love you and you needed me, not for any sort of payment. I'm not a whore."

Jack reached out and started unbuttoning the bodice of her damp and clinging shift. "Never said you were, love. It won't be payment. You did say you'd accommodate my needs, remember; this will just be my needing you in a different way."

"What way?"

"The kind of way that makes you writhe and squeak and come apart in my arms. If nothing else, it'll take your mind off the cut on your hand. See? Now it's my turn to help you!"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

* * *

_Note: The "comfort sex" was a little abrupt, but I want to emphasize to the more sensitive readers that it was completely consensual. I was using this scene to go a little deeper into the concept that it's a very healing experience, emotionally, to have sex with someone who has just made a public, lifelong commitment to you. Even though Jack has had plenty of sex before, none of it would have been like this. In my mind, he'd be worried that she'd leave him because he didn't please her this time, so he's a little hung up on the idea of having to please her so she'll stay. Instead, she doesn't care about his not pleasing her, she's staying anyway, because she can see how obviously wounded he is and wants to help him. To speak plainly, his mental health is far more important to her than an orgasm. That's a level of generosity and acceptance that he has never had before._

_ Again, potentially controversial topic; take it as you will._


	81. Honeymoon 3: Sparrowpiphany

_Note: The baby gifts that Jack brings in chapter one makes this scene inconsistent with what I have already written; however, the idea simply wouldn't leave my head and demanded to be written. So you, the reader, have the choice of whether to believe that Jack first visited Elizabeth to meet the new baby and bring them gifts, as chapters 1 and 2 state, or whether **this** is what **really** happened! _

_More controversial adult themes, but nothing really graphic this time. Use good judgment, as always._

* * *

"Elizabeth, you're a bloody marvelous woman," Jack told his wife, once he had caught his breath after their lovemaking and could speak again.

"Thank you," she replied, still breathless herself. She reached out a hand to touch him as they lay side by side on a blanket. "You're pretty wonderful yourself."

Jack shook his head tiredly. "I was just lying there passively. You're the one what brought me through the front doors of bliss and out the other side. Bloody amazing."

"I do my humble best. Can't have you missing all your port doxies, can I?"

"What doxies?" Jack asked, with a blank look.

"The girls you used to have in every port?"

Jack shook his head. "As far as I can remember, you're the only woman I've ever been with, sweetheart. If there were any others, you've successfully driven them all straight out of me head."

Elizabeth smiled and rolled over to give him a gentle kiss—such sentiments needed to be rewarded! "I love you," she told him.

"Aye, and you just proved it to me, in spades," he teased, sliding his arm around her so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"Still, it's only been… how long has it been for you, anyway, since you've been to bed with a woman?" she asked. "Before me, I mean?"

"Why d'you want to know that?" he asked, looking guarded. "Looking for an excuse to slap me?"

Elizabeth shook her head against his shoulder. "No slaps, unless it was a lot more recent than I think it was."

"Hmm, now, there's a question. When do you think was the last time I went whoring, then? Do tell, lovey."

"Well, my guess would be… after you dropped me off in Shipwreck with Teague? You know everyone in Shipwreck, it seems, and you spent most of your nights on the ship. Was it then?"

"Uh-uh."

"When you went back to Flimwell alone?"

"Nope."

"Give me a hint, Jack!"

Jack slanted a dark look down at her where her head rested on his naked shoulder.

"It—it wasn't with Angelica, was it? At the Fountain?"

"It was most certainly _not_ with Angelica!" Jack replied, obviously stung.

"Well, I didn't know. She is very beautiful."

"Aye, she is," he said with disgust. "So is a cobra, the way it draws you in and mesmerizes you before it strikes you dead."

"It's not like I was much better, when I chained you up for the kraken," Elizabeth said.

"Darling, it's like I told her when we gave her to Will: I've been eaten up by a kraken, and given the choice between 'em, I'd pick the kraken over her any day!"

"Ouch," Elizabeth said, not without sympathy. She kissed his bare chest. "All right, then. I promise not to get all insecure, or slap you or anything, just as long as it wasn't too recent."

"Define 'too recent'."

"Any time after my first talk with Will, when you and I ended up drinking in the crow's nest. That's when I started to realize how I felt about you."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, no, it was ages before that. No more guesses?"

"No, tell me."

"The truth?"

"Yes, the truth!" Elizabeth was getting impatient.

"Right, then. The truth is, there have been only three since you came and got me from the Locker. Two in Tortuga and one in Port-de-Paix. That one was the most recent."

"How recent?"

Jack hesitated for a moment.

"Jack! _How recent?_"

"Truth? Right before I visited you in New Flimwell."

"Which time?"

"The first time."

"No, really."

"'Struth, darling. I was with her about two weeks before I saw you again and got to meet your wee Jacob."

"But Port-de-Paix is a week away from New Flimwell."

"Aye, well… after I left her, I got drunk for about a week. _Then_ I went to see you after I sobered up."

"Good God! What did this woman do to you?"

"If I tell you, I need your word that you won't tell a soul and you'll never use it against me," Jack said cautiously. "Not even when you're angry at me. I'm not sure you'll want to hear 'bout what happened, 'cause it was during my, ah, 'congress' with another woman."

"I'm a big girl. I can take it. What'd she do to you?"

"Nothing extraordinary, actually. Nice enough girl, told me her name was Diana. She'd not been in the business long. We met, talked, reached an accord regarding price, went back to her room, and got down to it."

"Then what?"

"You _promise_ you're not going to hit me?"

"Poor baby. I promise. What happened?"

"Well, things were progressin' apace, and then I got a little carried away and called her 'Elizabeth.'"

Elizabeth gasped and covered her mouth in shock. "Oh, no! What'd she do?"

"She stopped dead and stared at me. Asked me how I knew that was her _real_ name! Quite a coincidence, eh? But I just told her I knew it before, and we continued." Jack paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, remembering. He went on slowly, "I'd never had that before, never been able to call out your name during a 'pleasurable encounter'."

Jack tipped Elizabeth's face up, to look her in the eyes. "Liz, it was like a dam broke inside o' me when I said _your _name, and it was the right name. I started hugging her and crying, told her I loved her, said I had to have her with me or I'd die. Promised her the finest gold and jewels if she'd only be mine. Begged her to marry me, in fact, pleaded with her to leave her husband and sail away with me. She does not, to my knowledge, even have a husband. I hope not, anyway. Poor chap's been cuckolded by half the island if she has."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped and her eyes got huge. She swallowed hard. "I take it she didn't accept your offer?"

Jack smiled sadly. "I hadn't had me eyes open when I made it, love. She waited till I'd finished and opened my eyes again. Then she gave me the sweetest smile you ever saw. I got dressed and started getting out me coin, but she stopped me. 'Jack,' she told me. 'I'll not take your money, nor hold you to any of that, on one condition.' 'What's that?' I asked her. She told me I had to promise to go find '_my real _Elizabeth' and say all those things to her."

Jack stroked Elizabeth's hair. "Before then I'd had no idea my feelings toward you ran so deep, but there it was. Bit hard to deny. So I took a few days to reassess the situation, take stock of things, get used to the idea—"

"Drink an entire cask of rum."

"That's what I said. After I sobered up, I followed my compass and there you were."

"But when you found me, you didn't tell me any of those things," Elizabeth pointed out. "Why not?"

"Well, I nearly tripped over Jake's cot as I was climbing in your bedroom window, didn't I? I know what I told you then, but in truth I _hadn't_ known about the baby yet. He changed things, of course."

"But after that you still tried to get Will released for me. Why? Why would you do that?"

"Well, sweetheart, I loved you. Wanted the best for you, and knew that wouldn't be me."

Jack's matter-of-factness about his sacrifice touched Elizabeth's heart. "You're insane. Deeply crazy and utterly mad, not to see how perfect you are for me."

"Well, we pretty much proved that yesterday, love. How mad I am."

"No, I don't mean that. I mean that you are the best man for me. Even Will admitted to me that you've always understood me better than he ever did. Plus, you're a good man. I've always known that."

"What about the fact that I first visited you with every intention of seducing you away from Will and sailing away with you on my ship? Does that sound like something a good man would do?"

"A good man who had a change of heart when he saw that there was an innocent baby in the picture. Yes."

"But if he hadn't been in the picture, love?"

"Jack," Elizabeth said with a kiss, "I'd have gone."

"Oh, really?" Jack said skeptically. "You'd have sailed away with me? Slept in my bed? Given yourself to me? You'll never make me believe that."

"You have no idea how lonely I was—or how much I missed you! If I hadn't had a baby to look after, I might have succumbed. I've have hated myself for it, and I'd have resented you for it, and we would never have been happy. We probably wouldn't have stayed together, but I still would have been ruined and sabotaged any chance I'd ever have of making a decent marriage."

"Far be it from me to cause a young girl's ruination. Again, I mean. I guess it's a good thing things worked out as they did."

"True. I never thought my best chance of a 'decent marriage' would be with you of all people, but it's too late for objections now, my lad. I have you in my clutches, Jack Sparrow, and I am never letting you go. Never, ever." Elizabeth smiled evilly.

Jack lay back comfortably on the sand. "I've rather enjoyed your clutches so far, sweetheart."

Elizabeth lay down next to him and nestled into his body. He turned over to face her, tipping her face up to kiss her lips before drawing her in closer. She nuzzled his neck and pressed her lips against his throat, enjoying the little gasp it elicited from him.

"I like the way your clutches feel, too," she said sleepily. "I like that you touch me so much. Even completely innocent, like holding my hand—it makes me feel all safe and cared-for."

"It's 'cause you _are_ safe and cared-for," Jack replied, shifting around to get more comfortable. He yawned and then told her, "You do the same for me."

Elizabeth smiled, letting her eyes fall closed. "You're a big, tough pirate," she pointed out. "You need someone to make you feel safe and cared-for?"

Jack smiled, kissing the top of her head. "Don't tell anyone, darling. My reputation would never survive."

"I'll take care of you, my Jack. Even your reputation is safe with me," she promised as she drifted off to sleep.

Jack contentedly inhaled the scent of her hair, draped his leg around her legs so that his body was completely wrapped around hers, and followed her into sleep.


	82. Honeymoon 4: Dealing with Interlopers

Their time on the island gave them the opportunity they needed—simple, relaxing, with no pressures or obligations—to get to know each other as husband and wife after just being friends for so long.

This took the form of very frequent lovemaking, but there was also swimming, fishing, eating mangoes in the surf, snuggling by firelight, and long, drowsy chats in the shade.

It was during one of these long, lazy afternoons when Jack broached a topic that he'd been putting off. "Lizzie," he said.

Elizabeth sat up and looked at him. He'd started using her nickname more often than before, but he often still meant business with it. Usually she was "'Lizabeth" or "Liz" in addition to the "love," "darling," and the increasingly popular "sweetheart," but "Lizzie" was still the one he used most often when he was serious.

"What is it, love?" she asked.

He smiled briefly at the endearment, but then sobered and went on. "Ye know I've been to bed with an awful lot of women before I married you," he began.

"...Yes?"

"Girl in every port, that was me." He noticed her expression hardening and hastened to add, "'M not telling you this to make you jealous or angry, love—it's just a fact. Can't change it."

"I am _not_ sharing you!" Elizabeth informed him in a hard voice.

"Oh, no, no, love. Perish the thought. It's just I got to thinkin'... with all this sailing about the governor wants us doing, we'll probably cross paths with some of 'em as we travel." He turned fathomless black eyes on her. "I told ye before, I don't want anyone to ever equate you with one o' them. So however ye want to handle it, I'll be right behind you.'S long as we're not talking actual murder, here, I'm your man."

She smiled. "You're my man anyway, murder or no."

"Aye, I am. And I want 'em all to know it."

"Oh! Er, thank you, Jack." She was quiet for a moment, thinking this over.

He wasn't a patient conversationalist. "Just out o' curiosity, how _do_ ye want to handle it?"

"Depends on them," she said thoughtfully. "Beyond my perfectly natural desire to snatch all the hair from their heads just for ever touching you, there's also the fact that a lot of them seem to like to slap you."

"They do, don't they? Can't think why."

"Point being, I would be forced to refuse them permission to lay so much as a finger on my husband, friendly or not. If they were disinclined to comply, well... I am fairly good with a sword."

"I'd like to see that," Jack said. He lay back down on the sand, with his hands folded behind his head, and closed his eyes apparently the better to imagine the sight. "Hell, I'd sell tickets so others could see that!"


	83. Making Port 1: Tortuga

_Note: This chapter contains some light swearing, light violence, and a little more "marital bliss." Read responsibly or not at all. Thank you!_

* * *

It was the first time that Elizabeth and Jack made port as a married couple, and it had to be Tortuga.

Gibbs told Jack when he picked them up again in the _Pearl_, that there was at least one man aboard who didn't want to stay with them if they weren't going to continue as pirates. True to his word, Jack sailed to Tortuga so that the man could get dropped off. Gibbs had wanted to sail straight to the _Isla Muerta_ first, but Jack refused. If they picked up the treasure first, the deserter or deserters would have to get their share. If they dropped off the deserters first, that meant more treasure for the remaining crew.

"That way it's a reward, see?" Jack told him. "If they want to do the right thing, this may be the only reward they ever get. But look on the bright side: at least it's immediate!"

Gibbs agreed swiftly.

Tortuga was exactly the same as it had ever been—sailors drinking, whoring, and brawling all over town. The air stank with that special tortuga blend of fish, alcohol, cheap perfume, vomit, sweat, and piss.

Elizabeth, walking between Jack and Gibbs in her sailor's outfit, replete with sword, wrinkled her nose. "I can never get used to the smell," she remarked.

Gibbs chuckled. "Aye, it stays with ye for a while."

One of the clusters of people they passed had a statuesque blonde detach herself from it and step out onto the street behind them. "Well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow!" she called out. "Have you ever got some explaining to do!"

Jack whirled, with his usual flair, and swaggered over to her. Gibbs and Elizabeth trailed behind.

"Ah, Giselle! You're absolutely right, darling. I do owe you an explanation. I can tell you, however, that you'll get it a lot sooner if you tell me what it is I'm supposed to be explaining," Jack said.

"You haven't been to see me in almost a year!" she pouted. "I had to hear from others that you'd even been in Tortuga at all! Now, I ask you, what could be so important that you had to make a stop in Tortuga and not come see your Giselle? Hmm? Let's hear that explanation, Jack!"

"Truth?" Jack asked.

"Of course!" she simpered.

"I got married."

"_What?"_

Jack nodded. "I got married."

"_You?_ _You_ got married? Who'd marry you?" Giselle asked, still skeptical.

"No one you know."

"I know a lot of people."

"She runs in different circles from you, pet."

"Just tell me, Jack. Who did you marry?"

"Governor's daughter, actually."

SMACK! His head whipped around when she slapped him.

"A likely story!" she cried. "You don't have to tell me lies, Jack Sparrow! Feeding me all that rot about getting married, and a governor's daughter at that—no, if you don't want to see me anymore, you can just say so. No need to lie!"

"'M not lying!" Jack protested, holding his cheek. "_And_ I don't want to see you anymore!"

Giselle pulled back to slap him again, but Elizabeth had her dagger at Giselle's throat in less than a second.

"Don't you _dare_ lay a hand on Jack Sparrow!" she hissed.

"'Oo are you, 'is bodyguard?" Giselle demanded, holding her head very straight.

Elizabeth smiled without humor. "You might say that. I do have an interest in guarding his body. I'm his wife."

"You?" Giselle asked, eyeing Elizabeth's outfit. "Wife! You're thin as a lath. Didn't know Jack's tastes ran to young boys… or girls who look like them."

Jack scowled. "Shut it, Giselle!" he ordered.

Giselle went on taunting Elizabeth, heedless of the dagger at her neck. "You look like a cabin boy! Jack, I thought you said you married a governor's daugh'er!"

Elizabeth twisted the dagger a fraction. "My name is Elizabeth Swann… Sparrow," she introduced herself. "Daughter of Weatherby Swann of Port Royale."

Giselle's face fell. Hispaniola wasn't so far from Jamaica that she hadn't heard of Governor Swann.

"Giselle 'Arris," she replied. "You can put the knife away, Miss Sw—er, Mrs Sparrow."

Elizabeth slowly lowered her dagger. "You ever lay a finger on my husband again and you'll see it much closer," she warned, waving it under Giselle's chin before sheathing it again. "And another thing: you're not _his_ Giselle. You're to have nothing to do with him from now on, you hear me?"

Giselle crossed her arms and huffed. "You going to let this _cabin boy_ talk to me like that, Jack?"

Jack said, "Giselle, she's my wife. I'll let her do whatever she damn well pleases. If it pleases her to defend my honor from every other woman I've ever bedded—

"—And it does!" Elizabeth put in, before she turned away and started talking with Gibbs.

Jack grinned and went on, "—Well, that's her prerogative, innit?"

"But Jack!" Giselle wailed. Then she started to smile, and leaned in close to him to whisper. "You ever want to be with a real woman again—I mean one who _looks_ and _feels_ like a woman—Jack, you just come see me."

"Giselle, you're already on her bad side 'cause of my past with you. If you want to avoid her _worse_ side, ye'd better keep yer distance, dearie."

Elizabeth had her back to them and appeared to be wheedling Gibbs for something. Jack heard the words "Blackbeard" and "bottle."

Giselle gave Elizabeth a long look, taking in the hat, the sword, the dagger, the brace of pistols, and gulped. "What—what's her worse side like?"

"She faced down Davy Jones on his own ship," Jack said. "You'll notice that he's dead, and she's still alive. That was after she killed me, brought me back to life, and got voted the Pirate King. Most recently, she defeated Blackbeard's daughter singlehanded and sent her packing back to Spain."

Giselle's eyebrows rose and her mouth fell open a little.

"_That's_ the woman I married," Jack said proudly. "Governor's daughter, Pirate King, fights like a hurricane… and with all that, she's the sweetest, cleverest, most beautiful and beguilin' woman in the world." He looked over at Elizabeth, apparently forgetting that Giselle was even there.

Elizabeth, still conversing with Gibbs, felt his eyes on her and looked around at him, falling silent mid-sentence. She looked at him for a long moment, and then smiled.

He smiled back and strode over, closing the gap between them. He slid his arm around her waist and tenderly kissed her mouth.

Gibbs cleared his throat pointedly.

"Huh?" Jack looked up. Gibbs nodded in Giselle's direction.

The tall blonde woman stood there alone, watching them with a sad smile. "I, uh, I wish you both joy," was all she said, and then she turned and started walking away. Her shoulders were slumped a little.

Jack noticed Gibbs watching her walk away. He caught Gibbs' eye and jerked his head in Giselle's direction. "Catch up later, eh?" he said.

Gibbs broke into a grin, nodded, and hurried off after Giselle. "Giselle! Miss Giselle!" he called.

She slowed down and smiled as he caught up to her and offered his arm.

She took his arm and started off. "'Ow've you been, Josh? Haven't been to see me in ages!" she said with a red-lipped pout.

"Ah, well, you know how it is. Never a dull moment, when you work for Jack."

Jack went around town and saw to the provisioning of his ship, and a while later Gibbs caught up to the both of them as they were heading toward the tavern. He looked a little disheveled, but quite pleased with himself. Jack greeted him with a grin and a bump of fists as Gibbs fell silently into step with him and Elizabeth as they walked up the street.

Jack led the way to his usual tavern, the Faithfull Bryde. He waved them to a table in the corner while he went to the bar to pick up his mail. Elizabeth and Gibbs sat down and ordered their drinks. Elizabeth was about to resume her pleading for Gibbs to tell her the story of the _Pearl_ in a Bottle, when suddenly Gibbs looked up and his face fell. "Oh, dear," he said.

"What's the matter?" she asked, turning around to see what he was starting at. A buxom, auburn-haired beauty had approached Jack and was talking to him. As Elizabeth watched, the woman reached out and touched Jack's beard, apparently remarking on the missing braids. The touch turned into a brief caress.

"She'd better get her hands off my husband," Elizabeth said to Gibbs, who only smiled.

Jack stepped back and said something that infuriated the woman—Elizabeth fervently hoped it was about his marriage—and the woman drew back and smacked him right across the face.

"That tears it," Elizabeth muttered, crossing the room in four swift strides. An instant later, Elizabeth had the woman's arm bent painfully behind her back. She gasped in pain.

"What's this one called, Jack?" Elizabeth asked.

"This is Scarlett, darling," Jack replied, holding his face. "Scarlett, meet my wife."

"Wife?" Scarlett exclaimed.

"Yes, wife, Scarlett," Elizabeth said, twisting Scarlett's arm a little more, just for emphasis. "I may call you Scarlett, may I not? I think, as you have carnal knowledge of my husband, I have a right use your Christian name. You may call _me_ Mrs Sparrow. Here's how it's going to be: Jack is off-limits to you from now on. If you ever so much as touch him again, friendly or no, I'll make sure you're scarlet, all right! I know Jack hasn't always acted the gentlemen—probably he made you promises, or owes you money, hmm?"

Scarlett nodded.

"You're going to release him from whatever promises he made to you, as the ones he made to me in the eyes of God and man supersede them. You're going to generously forgive whatever money he may owe you. And if you ever strike him again, I will track you down and make you suffer. Now I'm going to let you go, and you're going to walk away. Savvy?"

Scarlett nodded, and Elizabeth released her arm.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, Scarlett eyed Elizabeth from the top of her tricorned head to the bottoms of her folded leather boots. Elizabeth casually rested her hand on her sword-hilt, as Jack slung an arm over her shoulders.

Scarlett blanched. "Congratulations!" she said, and scurried away across the room.

* * *

_Author's Note: If you ought not to be reading love scenes, due to age, maturity, personal preference, or sensitivity reasons, please skip this next section._

* * *

Jack was grinning widely. "We'll be needing a room as well," he told the innkeeper, who was bringing him his mail.

"We're not going back to the ship?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack took his mail and the room key from the landlord, and waved goodbye to Gibbs, who gave him a nod and a knowing smirk. Jack took Elizabeth's hand and led her up the stairs. "Not tonight, love."

"Why not?"

"Because after seeing the way you put those tarts in their place, I have to have you."

"You have to—_what_?" Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice coming out almost a squeak of surprise. She lowered it to a whisper. "Here? Now?"

"Now," Jack confirmed. He unlocked the door to their room and ushered her in. "Here. Right here."

"But—what—why...?" Elizabeth was nearly speechless with shock.

Jack locked the door behind them, grabbed her hand, and reeled her in. "I don't think you realize what it does to me when you get all badass like that, my darling," he said, taking off her hat and starting to undo her shirt-buttons. He kissed her neck and bit her shoulder as he pushed off the shirt.

"I think I'm starting to get some idea," Elizabeth replied, with a gasp as he slammed her up against his body. She responded fervently to his fiery kisses, and then laughed a little as she pushed him away so she could tug off her boots. "It's a little odd, though."

"What, love?" Jack asked, pulling off his own boots and dropping them to the floor.

"That you should like it so much. It's not exactly ladylike," she said.

Jack scoffed as he removed his sword, pistols, and sash, before grabbing the tail of his shirt and pulling off his shirt and waistcoat over his head in one smooth motion. Now clad in trousers alone, he reached for his dagger. "Whatever you're still wearing when I reach you is getting cut off you," he warned her with a hot-eyed look as he took a step toward her, and then another.

Elizabeth shivered and shoved her trousers down, kicking them off and facing her husband in her naked skin. She bent over and scrabbled in her belt for her own dagger. Jack let out an appreciative groan at the sight of her bent over. She found the dagger and straightened up to face him. "The same goes for you," she informed him, brandishing the knife. "In five... four... three... two..."

His trousers whooshed to the floor and he stepped out of them. "You're gorgeous when you're only wearing a dagger," he told her. "Not sure I want you wavin' it around me bits, though."

Elizabeth grinned, baring her teeth. "Doff your trousers when you're told to like a good lad, and I won't need to, will I?" she teased, eying him with appreciation as she sheathed and set down the dagger.

Jack was only a couple of inches taller than she was, and his body was actually rather slight, but Elizabeth remembered how incredibly strong he was. He had effortlessly supported her weight along with his own when he had parachuted her off the _Dutchman_ a year ago. His skin was golden-brown all over, and his body—though not heavily muscled—was toned, athletic, and flexible. The scars made him look dangerous; the shorter hair and beard made him look years younger, and the wicked gleam in his eye gave him a puckish appeal, like a mischievous little boy. Now that Elizabeth knew how much pleasure he could give her with his body, she found him impossible to resist.

"Besides," she continued as an afterthought. "I like your bits."

Jack pulled her into his arms, her body pressed against his, skin on skin. "They're quite fond of you as well," he assured her, finding her lips with his own again.

Elizabeth broke the kiss and pulled him down to the bed with her. "Good arrangement," she panted.

Jack gave a grunt of agreement, and then there was no more talking.


	84. Making Port 2: New Flimwell

The first time they returned to New Flimwell after the governor's pardon, Gibbs went ashore with Jack and Elizabeth. They made their way directly to the inn, which was one of the few buildings left standing after Angelica's attack. As they walked, they could hear whispers rising up around them from the remaining settlers.

"Mrs Turner! Look, it's Mrs Turner!"

"Where's her baby?"

"Who's she with?"

"D'ye suppose he be _Mister_ Turner?"

Jack stumbled when he heard this, but Elizabeth just patted his arm and walked on. He shrugged and they continued to the inn, where, of course, Thomas Hound, Sr. was sitting and drinking.

He sat just inside the door, and he glanced up as they entered. "Oh, look," he sneered. "It's _Mrs_ Turner, the pirate whore. It should come as no surprise that _she_ lived through the attack, eh, lads?" He looked to the right and left, expecting the few other pub patrons who were there so early to agree with him.

None of them did. Jack gave the man a stern look. "You'd best beg the lady's pardon, dog," he advised darkly.

"Or what?" Hound sneered. "And the name's Hound."

"The name is going to be 'mud' if my lady doesn't hear an apology out of you in pretty short order," Jack warned.

"Lady!" Hound snickered. "All I see is a pirate whore!"

Elizabeth sighed. "Just ignore him, Jack," she said.

Jack looked at her in amazement. "Honestly? You want me to _ignore_ this malodorous lump of dung who just called my wife a whore?"

"'The respect of fools is worthless,'" she quoted. "Let's just not forget why we're here."

"We've plenty of time for that, love. But I can always make time for this as well." As quickly as he spoke, Jack pulled out his pistol, flipped it, and clipped Hound under the jaw with the butt.

Hound went over backwards and measured his length on the floor. Jack flipped his pistol back and shoved it back into his sash with a satisfied look.

"Uh, Jack," Gibbs said quietly, a note of warning in his voice. He looked pointedly around to where three of the other patrons were beginning to approach with a menacing air.

Jack looked around. In the gloom of the pub, the three of them were back-lit by the doorway as the afternoon sunshine streamed in, but they couldn't see very well to see who was approaching them. "Three against three," he muttered. He raised his voice. "Good day to ye, gentlemen!" he greeted with his usual devil-may-care ebullience. "Any of you know where I can find the mayor of this settlement?"

"That be me," called the landlord from behind the bar. "Who be askin'?"

One of the other men suddenly stopped closing in on them. "Jack? Be that you? And Gibbs?"

"Aye," Jack and Gibbs answered together. They moved out of the light so they could see.

"Ah, Terry!" Jack greeted. "And Beau! How are you?" Jack shook hands cordially with two of the pirates that he had resettled to Flimwell weeks ago.

"Doin' grandly," Terry assured him. "Didn't recognize you without all the hair. 'Ere, Ben!" he called to the landlord. "This here's Jack Sparrow!"

"Well, well, well, Captain!" cried the landlord. "Welcome back to Flimwell! Didn't recognize you at first! And who's yer companion—well, bless me!" he exclaimed. "Is that Mrs Turner?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied.

At the same time, Jack said proudly, "Not anymore."

"Eh?" asked the landlord, startled.

"May as well tell 'em," Jack told Elizabeth quietly. "It'll be all over town in ten minutes anyway."

"As you like," Elizabeth replied with a shrug and a bit of a blush.

"In that case, allow me to introduce Messrs Therrien and Boisvert? Informally known as Terry and Beau. Mr Quimby I believe you know." He handed the landlord a leather folder from his pocket. "This is for you, sir," he said. "Gentlemen, my wife, Elizabeth Sparrow."

"Wife?" Quimby said in shock.

"Wife? Jacky, you're married?" Terry asked in amazement.

Grinning proudly, Jack nodded.

"But I thought she was dead!" the innkeeper said. "Beggin' your pardon, Mrs… Sparrow, but the captain here had told us you hadn't survived the attack. An' we thought ye was married to a Mr Turner. That is," he cast a disparaging glance at Hound, still laid out on the floor, "_Most_ of us did."

"Aye," Jack said, pulling a long face. "Alas, my good friend Will—I didn't learn until just a few months ago that his ship went down last year and he _didn't_ survive it."

Elizabeth covered her smile at Jack's twisting the truth to make it sound normal. She cleared her throat. "Jack came and saved my life when my baby and I were dying of the fever, a week before the attack," she explained.

"And the rest, I'm assuming, is simply the natural progression of things?" the mayor asked with a knowing smile.

Jack grinned and nodded.

Elizabeth blushed and started to babble a little. "Yes, well… he's been our friend for years, and it seemed like the right thing to do, what with my being widowed with a baby and all."

"Quite right, too," Quimby approved. He winked at Jack, who looked smug.

"And then we heard about the attack on New Flimwell, and he was able to track down and punish the perpetrator," Elizabeth went on.

"The woman with the black hair and the big hat?" Quimby asked.

"Aye," Jack replied. "Her name was Angelica Teach. Actual, living daughter of Blackbeard, she was."

"Really?" Quimby exclaimed, face alight with interest.

"Aye, really," Jack said. He shot Elizabeth a fond look and went on, "But it was our beloved Pirate King here who fought the wench to a standstill and clapped her in irons so we could arrange for her deportation."

"Deportation?"

"Aye, and imprisonment in a convent back in Spain," Gibbs put in. "She'll not be bothering us again—no, nor her six Spanish warships neither, after the trouncing we give 'em!"

"Six Spanish warships?" asked Beau skeptically.

"Six, and thereby hangs a tale," Jack said. "But tellin' it is thirsty work. Be happy to do it, as long as someone'll buy an honest pirate and his lady a drink! Oh, and his first mate, too," he added, to Gibbs' great relief.

Boivert bought the first round, and Terry the second, and Mayor Quimby gave them the third round on the house. Elizabeth and Jack started out telling a judiciously edited version, but Gibbs soon broke in and took over.

The other two pirates crowded around them at the bar and listened avidly as the first mate told the story. One by one, other villagers joined them—two of them stopping only long enough to drag Hound's unconscious body out of the way as though they were used to doing it. More and more settlers joined them, until they were sure the entire village was crowded into the tiny pub.

Gibbs was in his glory. A natural storyteller at the best of times, he'd had the true account of events from Elizabeth and Jack, and was now proceeding to embellish it wildly as he told it to the villagers.

A few times Elizabeth tried to interrupt and correct him, but Jack stopped her. "Let him tell it," he told her quietly. "He's doing fine."

Elizabeth listened to Gibbs tell how Jack and his father, the Keeper of the Code, kidnapped Elizabeth right off the ship of Death himself. They spit in the eye of the sea goddess, which enraged her so that she chased after them with a magical silver knife! The three of them were able to escape, but not before she made a wild lunge and cut off all of Jack's hair with the knife.

Gibbs had the whole town hanging on his every word. Every so often one of the villagers would gape at Jack or Elizabeth, open-mouthed. They returned enigmatic smiles.

"And what's more," Gibbs finished, "After Jack and his father rescued Mrs Turner, as was, they discovered the longboat didn't have no oars! So what did they do? They roped a giant sea turtle to tow 'em to shore!"

"And then Mrs Turner suddenly became Mrs Sparrow?" asked one of the villagers skeptically. "How did that happen? Seems awful sudden."

"Why, that was Death's doing," Gibbs replied glibly. "So impressed was he by their devotion, each of 'em willin' to die for the other, and him knowin' Mr Turner to be long dead, he had a change of heart and showed up on the _Black Pearl_ on our way to Port Royale. Brought along a clergyman to marry them, and Death even give away the bride hisself!"

Gibbs retired, red-faced with pleasure at the ooohs and aaahs his storytelling engendered. To his surprise, Jack bought his next round for him.

"Thank you, Jack!" he said.

"'Tis nothing," Jack replied. "You earned it. Telling that many lies at once must be thirsty work!"

"Aye, so 'tis," Gibbs agreed complacently, with nary a blush, tipping up his tankard.

During the storytelling, Mr Quimby had been reading the letter that Jack had brought him from Governor Anderson. He looked up with a smile. "Pardoned?" he exclaimed. "Captain Sparrow, allow me to congratulate you, sir!" He read the letter aloud.

_Mr Benjamin Quimby_

_Mayor_

_New Flimwell, Hispaniola_

_Dear Sir:_

_This informs you that full pardon from piracy and other unlawfulness has been granted to Captain Jack Sparrow, in gratitude for his courageous and humanitarian acts on behalf of the settlement of New Flimwell, as well as employment with me to provide continued material assistance, goods, and transportation to that settlement for the purposes of reconstruction and growth. _

_Yours in sincerity,_

_Mark Anderson _

_Governor _

_Port Royale, Jamaica_

"Material assistance? What sort?" asked Therrian.

"You, for one," Jack answered with a smile. "And Beau, and Harris, and the others from Shipwreck, along with the tools and equipment. The governor told me he is prepared to overlook any past crimes of Flimwell's new settlers—you lot—as long as they abide by the laws from this point onward, and are prepared to help defend the settlement from any future attacks."

"Did he? That's right nice of him," said one of the others.

"Sounds as if you'll be spending plenty of time here," Quimby said, folding up the letter again. "I'll post this in the square, Captain, just so there's no confusion. Will you be staying on board your ship, then, or shall I make up a room or two upstairs?"

"Upstairs for tonight, please, Mr Quimby," Elizabeth requested. "Probably for quite a while, until we can get my house rebuilt on the hill."

"Oh, ah… as to that, Mrs Tur—Mrs Sparrow, there isn't much left of it."

"All the same, I want to rebuild it," Elizabeth said, determinedly. "It looks as if we'll be dividing our time between here and Port Royale, so we'll need a house in both places. Did—" she hesitated, looking away. Then she swallowed hard. "Did anyone survive the attack who can build a house?"

Quimby shook his head. "Nay, but Mr Harris, one of the pirates from Shipwreck, is a right good carpenter. He might be here, in fact." He peered through the crowd. "Oi! Harry, you in here?"

An answering yell sounded from the back, and a huge, muscle-bound, middle-aged man came pushing through the crowd. He greeted Jack with a painful handclasp, and reached out and ruffled Jack's hair with a laugh.

"Haven't seen it like that since ye were a youth!" he said.

Jack gave him a dirty look as he smoothed out his short hair again. "I'll thank ye to remember that I'm no longer a youth," he said sternly.

Harris laughed boisterously. "To me you'll always be little Jacky Sparrow, Teague's boy."

Jack glared up at him. "Harry, we didn't even meet until I was 19!"

Harris stood next to him and gave a pointed look between the two of them. "And ye haven't grown much since, have ye?" He topped Jack by several inches, and his broad, muscular frame was easily twice Jack's width.

Gibbs looked away to hide his smile and Elizabeth hid her chuckle behind her hand, but the sound escaped and drew Harris' attention.

"Who's this gorgeous creature, then?" he asked, nudging Jack.

Jack casually introduced them. "Harris, Elizabeth Sparrow. My wife."

"How do you do, Mr Harris?" Elizabeth said quite properly.

"I'm downright amazed, Mrs Sparrow, thank you. How the hell—pardon me, ma'am—did little Jacky end up _married_? And not only married, but married to a lady as pretty and refined as you?"

"Oh," Elizabeth told him, deadpan, "Well, last year I killed him and brought him back from Davy Jones' Locker, and this year I fell ill and he had to drag me naked out of my house and down to the sea to wash the vomit and shite off me. After that, I'd say it was pretty much inevitable."

Harris' jaw dropped, and Jack and Gibbs both let out a shout of laughter.

Harris sputtered in shock, but Elizabeth went on smoothly. "As it happens, my illness came only a week before the pirate attack, and my house didn't survive. We'd like to speak with you about rebuilding it for us."

Once Harris recovered from his astonishment over the vulgarity of Elizabeth's words and her ladylike delivery of them, he started to smile. "You'll have to tell me the story someday, ma'am," he said, "And yes, I'd be glad to rebuild your house. Just tell me what you want and where, and once I'm finished the church I'll get right to it."

"There's going to be a church?" Elizabeth asked, pleased. "We didn't have one before!"

"Aye, now all we need's a minister to fill the pulpit," Harris said.

"Might be able to help supply that, too," Jack told him. He asked Elizabeth, "Think Philip would like it here?"

"Quite possibly. It's not missionary work, but pirates are just as heathen as the natives of darkest Africa!" she laughed.

"Oi!" Jack, Gibbs, and Harris all protested together.

Elizabeth stared them down, and after a moment they all started looking sheepish.

"Aye, so we are," Gibbs finally agreed, giving in.

* * *

It was not until the following day that news of Mrs Turner's miraculous return in the company of a pardoned pirate made the rounds among the younger set. The young people of the town had not been spared in the attack; only a few were left, among whom young Tommy Hound was the eldest at fourteen.

Jack and Elizabeth were having their breakfast downstairs in the common room, when suddenly the door burst open and Tommy ran in. Eyes accustomed to the bright sun outside, he stood blinking for a moment until they adjusted. Elizabeth recognized him.

"Tommy!" she called. She pushed her chair back and stood up.

He turned and saw her. He stood frozen for an instant in shock, and then ran straight at her, directly into her arms.

"Th' sa' yrlive!" he cried, his voice muffled in her shoulder.

"What was that, son?" Jack asked, looking up at Elizabeth in surprise.

He raised his head. "They said ye're alive! Mrs Turner! I thought ye'd been killed in the attack, ma'am!"

Elizabeth hugged him. "No, Tommy, I'm fine!" she soothed. "Here, why don't you sit down with us for a bit, hmm?"

The boy reluctantly let go of her and sat down, eyes glued to her face.

"Tommy, I'm glad you found me. I've been wanting to talk to you, to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your mother," Elizabeth said gently. "She was a lovely woman, and a good friend. I was very sad when Captain Sparrow here told me she'd been killed. I want you to know that we found the pirate responsible, blew her ship out from under her, and sent her back to her home country to to be imprisoned for the remainder of her mortal life. Your mother's death has been avenged. Captain Sparrow and I saw to it personally."

Tommy's eyes closed, and a couple of tears squeezed out and slipped down his face. "Thank ye, ma'am," he said hoarsely.

Elizabeth and Jack were silent until the boy had regained his composure. He opened his eyes and furtively wiped his cheeks, and then looked at Jack. "Captain Sparrow?" he asked. "You helped me move the rafter from my door right after the attack. And then you brought Mr Harris and the others here to help us rebuild. That was you, was it not, sir?"

"Aye, lad, that was me."

"I thought so. Meant to thank you for your help, sir. The whole town's indebted to you."

Jack shrugged. "Was on me way here anyway. T'others just wanted to tag along." He leaned over and said in a playfully confidential tone, "Just don't tell the governor that! He'd take back me pardon!"

The boy giggled. "No, sir," he promised. He looked back at Elizabeth. "My mum said you and your baby were awful sick, ma'am. Did he make it, little Jacob?"

"Yes, he did, Tommy," Elizabeth told him, smiling. "He's staying with my aunt in Port Royale right now. Captain Sparrow came in time and saved both our lives, and sailed away with us right before the pirate attack. I only wish we had known about it beforehand. Others might have been saved as well," she added sadly.

"Mrs Turner," Tommy began awkwardly. "Not meaning to pry, ma'am, but they said... well, they said that ye're not Mrs Turner no more."

"No more she is," Jack said with a smile. At the teenager's bewildered look, Jack explained in his own inimitable way. "Mr Turner bein' a friend of mine, I looked in on his lady whilst he was at sea, not knowin' that Mr Turner had met his end at the hands of Davy Jones a year ago, so when your mum wrote me about Mrs Turner bein' ill, I sailed over and found Mrs Turner and young Master Jake awful close to death, and your mum sayin' that no one was willin' to look after 'em for fear of catching what they had, I took 'em both on board my ship and had my ship's doctor fix 'em up, after which we sailed back here a week later, which was when we learned of the pirate attack, and it wasn't long after that that we heard of Mr Turner's sad demise while we were tryin' to track down the attacker, and sometime during the course of finding the attacker, fighting off her and her ships, and sending her back where she came from, Mrs Turner agreed to marry me."

Elizabeth looked at Jack, shaking her head in wonder. "I can't believe you fit all that into one sentence!" she marveled.

Tommy giggled. "So did you, Mrs Turner? Did you marry Captain Sparrow?"

"Last week, yes."

"So you're Mrs Sparrow now?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Among other things. We seem to have a surfeit of names between us, don't we, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. "They don't go bad, love, nor will they be wasted. We'll always have a ready stash of aliases if we need 'em!" He winked at Tommy, who was grinning and watching him with a light of hero-worship in his eyes.

"And what about you, young Tommy?" Jack asked. "How are you keeping, son?"

"Well, I miss my mum, of course."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed quietly.

"But it isn't all bad now. Me dad got me a 'prenticeship with Mr Harris, he did. So now I'm not living with me dad no more, and Mr Harris is teaching me carpentry!"

"Ye like it then?" Jack asked. "Harris is a bit of a hard-nose."

"Aye, sir. I like it fine. Mr Harris treats me better than my dad did, if you'll pardon my saying so."

"Glad to hear it, Tommy." Elizabeth smiled and gave him another quick hug. "Mr Harris is going to be rebuilding my house on the hill, you know. We'll probably see you up there quite a bit!"

"Yes, ma'am. Uh, Mrs T-er, Sparrow? Captain, sir?"

"Yes?" they both replied.

"When you have the time, I'd love to hear the story about what happened to the woman who attacked us here."

Jack grinned. "I'll have to introduce you to my mate, Mr Gibbs, son. He's the one you'll want to hear your stories from, mark my words!"


	85. Teague and Three Women

_Note: This was a background scene that took place during the time that Elizabeth and Jack were starting to realize their feelings for each other, but were also quite busy preparing for Angelica's imminent attack. With the two of them gone so much, Teague and Agatha had plenty of time to get to know each other. This is a slightly deeper exploration of Jack's family background._

* * *

"Captain Teague, who is she?" Agatha asked her host one day as they sat together in the sitting room. She was looking at the portrait on the wall.

He had his guitar on his knee as usual, and had been picking out a new melody. He looked up at the portrait Agatha was pointing at.

"Sure you want to know, ma'am?" he asked. "Might not like the answer."

"Why not?"

"Might not want to 'ssociate with me or me son anymore. Might not want to let yer niece do so either."

"I'll risk it. Who is she?"

"Jacky's mother."

Agatha's jaw dropped. The woman in the portrait was formally dressed in English clothes, with an English hairstyle and English jewelry… but she was incontestably and incontrovertibly a negress. Teague, her gruff and taciturn new friend, had evidently had an affair with a black woman… and not only that, but had had a child with her—a child whom Agatha was currently attempting to inveigle into marrying her niece!

If Elizabeth did marry Jack, their children would be Quadroons at best, and probably still not received in Society. Agatha would have to give this match some more thought.

She glanced up at Teague, intending to ask about the woman's ancestry—perhaps she looked more black than she really was? Maybe she was the quadroon herself?—but she noticed his expression.

He was looking up at the portrait with look of wistful adoration on his face. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he sighed.

Whatever she was, he obviously still missed her.

"What happened to her?" Agatha asked, instead of what she had been going to ask.

"Died of a fever." Teague's voice was unutterably sad.

Agatha took a deep breath. "How did you meet her?" she asked quietly.

For a while she thought Teague wasn't even going to answer her, and then he took in a sudden breath and started playing again. As before, he spoke in a low, gruff voice, and let the music convey his emotions for him.

"She's what the Spanish call a 'sambo.' Her mum was an African slave who escaped into the mountains and married into a local Taino tribe. Fellow what called 'imself 'Smith' when he interpreted for the English. They had one daughter, name o' Senya, before this Smith was killed in a Carib raid. Well, Senya's mum went a bit crazy and attacked the whole raiding party singlehandedly. She was killed, o' course, leaving Senya all alone with the Taino. They didn't want her, so they brought her to an English mission and left her there. Luckily, her dad had taught her English. She got an interpreting job, but ran afoul of a couple of visiting English who thought they had fair rights to 'er 'cause she was dark-skinned. She killed 'em both and ran away from the mission. If she'd been caught, she'd have been hanged, or worse, so she ended up stowing away on a ship."

"So how did you meet her?"

"It was my ship, wasn't it? She was found and brought before me, and I talked with her. Ordinarily we'd toss a stowaway over the side and be done with it, but I liked her. I liked her spirit. I mean—killin' the men who attacked her, 'stead of just givin' in to stay safe? Takes courage. So I didn't throw her overboard. Put her to work instead."

"What sort of work?"

"Sailin', what else?"

"Many men would have put her to work… you know. On her back."

Teague snorted a laugh. "After I heard what she'd done to the last two who tried it, she was very safe aboard _my_ ship, I can tell you! No, she only had one problem with that sort o' thing during the whole voyage, and she came to tell me about it after she had already dealt with the miscreant."

"Good heavens! What did she do?"

Teague hesitated. "Er, let's just say she made him permanently uninterested in interferin' with women. Said she give him the choice: either that or go overboard, so that's what he chose."

Agatha covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing hard.

Teague chuckled a little.

Agatha, wanting him to change the subject, asked, "How did you and she end up… you know… together… if I may ask?"

Teague smiled, leaning back and plucking the guitar again. "I knew by the time we arrived in England that I wanted her for me wife. Hell of a woman—er, pardon me, ma'am. Quite a woman, I should have said. We'd got to be pretty fond of each other on the crossing. So I proposed to 'er and she accepted. Trouble is, me family wouldn't allow me to marry 'er an' stay respectable. So I told me family to stuff it, beggin' yer pardon, I turned pirate, and we sailed back to the Caribbean and were married in the Taino way."

"Oh, so she was your wife!" Agatha exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I just thought—"

"Ye thought her just a passin' fancy? So did me family. We proved 'em wrong, we did." Teague's guitar riff showed his simultaneous satisfaction and irritation with his family. "Twelve years' worth of 'passing fancy,' it was. She gave me a son, but then she died of the fever when my Jacky was only ten. The Taino didn't want 'im, so I brought 'im back to England. Turns out the English didn't either. Lad had a bit of a rough time of it, until I remarried—an English lady this time—and he moved in with his stepmother."

"How did she take to Jack?"

"She couldn't afford _not_ to take to 'im. Poor Bertie was a sickly sort. Gave me a set o' twins, and then was too ill to keep 'em so Jacky stepped in and took care of 'em for the next few years. They got right fond of 'im, they did. Didn't matter to the little ones that 'is mum wasn't a white woman."

"Did it matter to your second wife?"

Teague smirked. "Not for long," was all he said. "Question is, will it matter to Miss Elizabeth?"

Agatha didn't know what to say.

Teague shot her a sharp glance. "Does it matter to you?"

Agatha flushed dark red. "Yes," she confessed. "A little, yes."

Teague stopped playing for a moment. He gazed up at the portrait. "Seems funny," he mused. "Woman like that—fearless, beautiful, honorable, loyal—that she should be looked down on because of her color, while the white Englishmen who enslaved and transported her mother and tried to molest her are the ones deemed 'respectable.' Ironic, really."

"I see what you mean," Agatha said thoughtfully. "I am sorry if I offended you, Captain. Will you tell me about her?"

Teague smiled, apparently at Agatha's interest. "Her real name was Senya," he said, "Though in England she went by Sophie Smith. She was like a river. Combination of rapid shallows and deep, powerful currents. Now, the sea, you can get to know her, and navigate her. You can know where things are, and if there's a storm, you can just ride it through and then continue on your way. A river, though—" he shook his head.

"A river's never the same from one season to the next, with its floods and droughts, and changin' courses, and movin' stuff around, and smoothin' out the sharp rocks. You think a river is easily navigated, until you hit a rock that hadn't been there before and you capsize. You never know how strong the current is until you're well into it, and then it's too late to get out. Only way to save yourself is to just swim along with it. And like a river, she could wear down the sharpest stone just by flowin' relentlessly past it. After a few years with her, I couldn't recognize meself anymore. She'd changed me. She'd smoothed down my sharp corners a bit, and ground down my rough edges."

Teague noticed his guest's quickly hidden look of surprise, and chuckled. "Yes, ma'am, if you can believe it, I used to be even rougher and sharper than I am now."

Agatha dissembled. "I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't mean—"

Teague cut her off with a quick Spanish riff. "No, she did. She made me a better man without me even realizin' it. Yes, ma'am," he finished, gazing up at Senya's portrait. "She was one hell of a woman."

Agatha replied into the silence. "You must have loved her very much."

Teague said nothing, but only nodded once and went on playing.

"My Jacky's a lot like his mother," he said after a while. "Always full of surprises, no matter how well you think you know 'im. Shallow and full o' chatter like the rapids, but other places are smooth and deep and don't give nothin' away."

"I can see that in him," Agatha mused. She looked up again at the portrait and made a decision. It was a decision that she would never have been able to make, only a few months before; however, with Elizabeth's current situation, and with what Agatha was beginning to learn about non-Society people in general, she was able to make it now. Living in Shipwreck had educated her on more than one level.

"Your wife was very beautiful," she finally said in a more formal tone. "I condole with you on her loss, and I find your son to be a very fine man. I believe my niece is starting to do, as well. If she does have a problem with who his mother was, then I shall have a talk with her about it," Agatha promised.

Teague played a cheerful little riff, like a chuckle. "Thank ye, ma'am."

"You may call me Agatha, Captain. If you wish," she told him.

"Edward," he invited in turn. His black eyes sparked with a speculative gleam. "Though it ain't exactly proper, Ag'tha. Usin' our given names. Ye know that, right?" he added with mock concern.

Agatha raised her chin and met his gaze evenly. "Neither is marrying a negro, yet you managed that easily enough. I'll be switched if I'm going to let a pirate outdo _me_ in a social matter!"

Teague was startled into a laugh. He leaned forward and reached for her hand, pressing it respectfully to his lips before releasing it. "You are a fine lady, Ag'tha, and no mistake."

"It sounds as if Senya was, as well," Agatha said generously.

Pleased, Teague just nodded. "Aye."


	86. Dirty Little Secret of Babymaking

_Note: Okay, this scene is really questionable and bordering on M territory, so please, please skip it if you're not comfortable with that sort of thing. It's just my lighthearted and naughty answer to the question of "how on earth can Will and Elizabeth have a child if he was dead?" _

_I originally cut it from the "Calypso's Power" chapter when I decided to take it in a very different direction from this. But if anyone was wondering about the question of Jacob's existence, well, wonder no more. Oh, and, uh... sorry. :)_

* * *

Suddenly Calypso coalesced from the shadows in the corner of Jack's cabin.

"You enjoyin' my gif', William Turnah?" she asked, smiling at the sight of him holding the baby.

He beamed at her. "Very much, Calypso. Thank you!"

"Welcome aboard, Tia," Jack said. "Didn't expect to see you so soon."

"Somethin' you say yesterday made me come," she said. "'Bout my William stayin' in touch wid de living."

Jack frowned in puzzlement. "You hadn't got here yet when I said it!"

She smiled. "You on de sea when you say it."

"So you're aware of every single thing that happens on the sea, anywhere?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes," Calypso replied, "An' lucky for your son dat be de case."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Elizabeth said.

Will cleared his throat. "It's fine, Elizabeth. It's—uh—er—"

"What do you mean, 'it's fine'? What are you talking about? Why is it lucky for Jacob?" Elizabeth asked.

Will, face blazing red, cleared his throat again. "It's just that—well, it's what I told you earlier. The dead can't father children. Calypso made it possible."

"How?" Elizabeth demanded.

Calypso smiled mysteriously. "I know my William from long ago… and he know me as well," was all she said.

Elizabeth gave her a blank look that matched Jack's. Calypso just smiled wickedly.

After a moment, Jack drew his eyebrows together. "Wait a minute," he said. "Are you talking about _knowing_, here? Like, you know, _knowing_? In the Biblical sense?"

He looked at Calypso and started to smile. "Was that why you already knew his name when you first met? He had already '_known'_ you, as it were?"

She nodded.

Jack started laughing. "Oh, my, Willie!" he crowed. "Never knew you had it in you! Guess I shouldn't be surprised, a young buck like you, growing up in a harbor town, pinin' hopelessly for the governor's daughter! Had to blow off your… er, steam, somewhere, didn't you? Why not in the sea? Quiet little swim, private, no one the wiser…"

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said. "What are you all talking about?"

Jack drew her aside and whispered in her ear for a moment, and then stood back and watched in fascination as her jaw dropped and she turned even redder than Will.

"You mean—? At Port Royale?" she exclaimed incredulously. "In the _sea_?"

She looked at Calypso in disbelief. "And you _kept_ it? Does that sort of thing happen to you… often?" Her voice went so high on the last word that it was almost a squeak.

"Only for dose who love de sea," she replied.

Elizabeth looked suspiciously at Jack. "_You_ love the sea," she accused.

He held up one finger. "Ah, but never _carnally_," he said.

"He nevah knew me as well as I had hoped," Calypso mourned.

"No, love, I leave that to your new-found dolly-beau," Jack said, still grinning.

Elizabeth stared in shock at Will. "I'm not sure whether to be grateful for my son, or appalled and disgusted at the getting of him!"

"How about both?" was Jack's helpful suggestion.

* * *

_That was all I wrote of that scene, before I decided I'd rather have Calypso throw a tantrum instead. The thought of it did amuse me, though, so I thought I'd share this little snippet with anyone else who might think it's funny._


	87. What's in a Name?

"Why'd you give me your name, Dad?" Jack asked his father one evening.

The _Black Pearl_ had put in to Port Royale for some timbers, which weren't quite ready yet. This gave the crew time to relax and blow off steam, and gave Jack and Elizabeth time to spend with Teague and Agatha.

Teague's life in Port Royale was not dull. His new marriage to Elizabeth's Aunt Agatha opened doors of Society for him that hadn't been open in decades; however, he refused to step through many of them. Having turned to piracy in the first place because of the hypocrisy of Society, he wasn't eager to revisit it. He usually sent a peremptory refusal to many of the invitations and overtures that Port Royale's upper crust kept sending him.

When he did socialize, he was surprisingly popular because of his bone-dry sense of humor. He looked almost angry when delivering a sarcastic comment, as if daring anyone to laugh at it. He raised eyebrows everywhere with his curt manner, but everyone loved his gruff, guitar-filled storytelling.

With Agatha, he was quite different. He treated her with a gentle deference, smiled often, and showed her a sweet, respectful affection that stole the hearts of anyone who saw them together. It was for this reason that he was still popular and still invited places by people to whom he had been very rude indeed. To have a civil conversation with Captain Teague was considered a mark of high achievement to the upper crust of Port Royale. Teague's favor had rapidly become a mark of prestige, despite how recently he himself had arrived. Fort Commander Eustace "Ace" Gilbert, by virtue of his close association with the man who had used to be his captain for nearly two decades, rapidly rose in status, and the two men enjoyed playing cards together once or twice a week.

Even Governor Anderson, at first reluctant to extend the hand of friendship to a known pirate—albeit one he had pardoned himself—was forced to acknowledge Teague's influence in the town. The governor had been more than a little shocked when Agatha Ainsley-Swann, a respectable widow of good family, had actually married this pirate! All she would say was that Teague was a good man, and she had found living in a pirate town for several months to be an eye-opening experience.

She much preferred being back in Port Royale, though. She was very fond of her new husband, who was a terse conversationalist, but a good companion and an excellent lover: all three ways in which he was a vast improvement over her late husband, Horace Ainsley-Swann. Agatha got to see her niece quite often and her grand-nephew nearly every day (Elizabeth left Jacob in her aunt's care whenever they traveled to the rough-and-tumble little settlement of New Flimwell).

Elizabeth seemed very happy with Jack, Agatha thought. Being among pirates for so long, and then having to fend for herself for over a year had hardened Elizabeth, made her more cynical and less vulnerable. Loving Jack seemed to soften her a little, open her up. Agatha was happy to see Elizabeth laughing so much more, trusting more, and being more affectionate than she had been before.

For his part, Jack was still laughing and flirtatious, but he seemed to have acquired a depth and stability that hadn't been there before. Agatha and Teague both noticed that he helped Elizabeth lighten up and open up, while she steadied his flightiness and tempered his recklessness.

"A good match," Teague said with a sigh of satisfaction one day, as the two of them stood in the window watching their two visitors walk up the path. "That was a good call, Ag'tha."

"Really, all I wanted to do was make sure my niece was provided for," Agatha responded. "I had no idea she actually loved him so much."

"Aye, but if you hadn't picked up on the fact that _he_ loved _her_ so much, you wouldn't've matched 'em up."

"Well, that's true," Agatha admitted. "I've been pleasantly surprised at how well it worked out!"

That evening, sitting in Agatha's parlor, Jack asked about his name. Teague could tell that Jack was nervous, by his relaxed posture and calm demeanor. When Jack was truly relaxed, he fidgeted; it was only when he was nervous that he looked calm.

"At me wedding, I mean," Jack clarified. "You named me Teague. Why? And why then?"

Teague picked out a slightly melancholy little melody on his guitar. "Wanted to, when you were born," he answered. "The Taino don't do that, though. They name a baby after 'is mother's family. So me an' Senya, we compromised. We named you after your mother's family, but we used _her_ father's English name. Smith."

"Makes sense," Jack said. "Doesn't actually answer me question, though. Why Teague, and why then?"

Teague took his time answering, as the tune sped up and became more cheerful. "The Teagues wouldn't allow me to marry your mum in England. 'S why we had to go back and get married by the Taino. They're all dead now, though, my family. All 'cept me and my children. Me, you, Adam, and Sarah. All the relatives that didn't want their name tainted by yer mum's blood, they're all dead. What good did their lofty ideals an' purity do 'em? They're dead. Whose is the blood that goes on? Yer mum's, who they didn't think was good enough, and mine, whom they disowned."

"So it was sort of to spite your family, then?" Jack asked, uncomfortably.

Teague gave him a sharp look. "Are you thinkin' that I didn't want to acknowledge ye proper, Jacky? 'Cause yer mum was a black? Or mebbe 'cause we wan't properly married in the English way?"

"Thought had crossed my mind," Jack said with deceptive mildness, which someone who knew him well could see masked his hurt. "Especially when I grew up and came to you in Shipwreck and ye introduced me as yer _protégé_. Thought ye didn't want to admit to my bein' yer son."

Teague shook his head. "Nay, 'twasn't that. 'Twas only to keep you safe 'til you were old enough to make your own way. I had a lot of enemies back then. And it wasn't to spite my family, either. Well, not only," he added with a grin. "'Twas more to acknowledge that you're grown up now, than it was to acknowledge that you're me son."

Jack gave Teague a bewildered look. "Dad, I'm over forty!"

Teague played a laughing little riff on the guitar for him, and grinned. "An' glad I am that ye're finally grown up! It certainly took ye long enough!"

Jack rolled his eyes and groaned, sitting up and fiddling with his palm glove.

Teague smiled; Jack was fidgeting again, and therefore was starting to relax. Teague started another melody. "It's yours if ye want it, the Teague name, but ye don't have to use it," he said quietly. "It don't hurt my feelin's or anything. I know you've made quite a name for yourself using 'Sparrow,' and that's fine. Your mum, she always loved sparrows. But I wanted to give you the option, see. There are only four of us left, an' only me actually usin' the name since Adam uses the Dalrymple title now, and Sarah's married to Daniel Spring.

"Funny," he mused. "Me father forbade me to marry Senya, so I'd marry an Englishwoman and have children 'worthy' of carrying on the family name. So later on, I married Bertie, but neither one of her children is carrying on the family name. Th' only one left who can still use it is you, the son of the 'sambo' they deemed unworthy in the first place."

Teague finished up the melancholy little melody and began a more martial-sounding one, with a driving beat. He sat up and met his son's gaze evenly as he said, "Jacky, you call yourself whatever you want to call yourself, but I wanted to make sure you knew, on your wedding day, that you could call yourself 'Teague' as well."

Jack's only reply was a nod of thanks and a smile.


	88. The Teague Family

_At last, the long-awaited introduction of Jack's siblings. Enjoy!_

* * *

On one of Jack and Elizabeth's stops in Port Royale, Teague asked them to go and pick up some cargo that was on a ship due in port that day.

"It's from England," he explained. "Couple of the passengers there will give ye details about it. Can't remember the name, but no matter—I gave 'em a complete description of you, Jacky. They'll find you."

"Oh, great," Jack replied with dread. "Someone I don't know is going to be seeking me out by sight. You know, Dad, usually when that happens I end up arrested!"

"Not this time, Jacky," his father said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Full pardon, remember?"

"Aye, aye, I remember," Jack replied with a nervous smile. "It's just that with having a full pardon and having the _Black Pearl_, and having Elizabeth with me on it, and finally having enough money most of the time—well, I keep expecting to wake up, is all."

Teague gave him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Know 'xactly what you mean, son," he said. "But if you're nervous 'bout meeting the ship alone, you can always take along Miss Liz as a bodyguard."

"That's a good idea," Jack said. "I'll do that." He nodded a couple of times and then said, "Oh! She'll need to change first! And get a sword. And a pistol. Or maybe two. What do you think, dad? Think she'll need two?" Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and strode out of the room calling Elizabeth's name.

Teague raised an amused eyebrow. He'd been joking about the bodyguard thing.

Three hours later, Jack and Elizabeth stood on the dock waiting for passengers aboard the Sally Wood to make their way down the gangplank. Elizabeth wore her breeches and hat, with her hair tied back and her sword at her side.

"Any idea what the cargo is?" she asked him as the ship's passengers began to file down the gangplank.

He shook his head. "Not a clue. Oh! There's the harbormaster. He knows Dad; maybe he'll know something about it. Wait here, I'll go ask him."

Elizabeth nodded. The third passenger to make her way down the gangplank was a beautiful young woman who looked about Elizabeth's age, with black hair, a royal blue gown, and a very stylish hat with a feather. She was searching the dock anxiously, presumably for the person meeting her. Then she stopped short and stared. Elizabeth turned to see who had caught the woman's attention.

It was Jack. He was crossing the end of the gangplank to speak with the harbormaster who stood on the other side of it.

Jack's walk was unique. While other sailors tended to pick up a wide-legged, rolling sort of gait in order to keep their balance on board ship, Jack never had. Instead, he kept his feet a normal width apart but used his arms for balance, keeping them out to the side and generally waving about so he wouldn't fall. On land this gave him a rather effeminate gait, but at sea he was the most sure-footed sailor Elizabeth had ever seen.

It was this flamboyant, arm-waving walk which had apparently captured the attention of the newcomer. She broke into a smile and hurried down the gangplank.

Frowning, Elizabeth moved closer. The girl was probably another old conquest of Jack's that Elizabeth would have to frighten off. She was bit higher-class than Jack's usual fare, though.

"Jack!" the girl called loudly.

Jack stopped, turned, frowned in bewilderment. "Er…" was all he had time to say before the stunning young woman threw herself into his arms.

Elizabeth was close enough behind Jack to hear him say uncomfortably, "I'm deeply flattered, dear, but I'm a married man."

The girl kept her arms around him, but tilted her head back to look up at him in shock. "You're _married?"_

Jack drew his eyebrows together as he studied her face seriously for a long moment, and then the dawn of recognition lit up his face and he started to smile. "Aye, I am," he told the girl, "But don't worry, love—that's not going to keep me from carrying _you_ away!"

He grinned and hugged the girl, kissing her all over her face. They were loud, smacking kisses, culminating in a tight embrace where he lifted her right off the dock and twirled her around while both of them laughed with joy.

Then he released her and held her hands while he stepped back so he could see her whole figure properly. "Oh, just look at you, sweetheart," he said, beaming. "You're so beautiful!"

Elizabeth gritted her teeth. He called lots of women _love_ or _darling_, but _sweetheart_ was an endearment he reserved for Elizabeth alone. Who _was_ this woman?

"What about you?" the woman asked. "How did you get so handsome, Jack, dear? I wouldn't have known you, except I saw you walking. Nobody else walks like you. But what on earth have you done to your teeth? It's not as if there's a lime shortage in the Caribbean, you know!"

Jack looked outraged. "I'll have you know, I've never had scurvy in me life, young missy! These here teeth are mementos of some of my many wild adventures!"

"And you'll have to tell me all about them," the girl soothed. She looked at him for a moment and shook her head. She hugged him again and kissed his cheeks several times. "Seriously, what happened? You didn't look like this last time I saw you!"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know. Respectable! Not all rags and tatters. And… clean."

Jack opened his mouth to respond, when suddenly Elizabeth was at his elbow.

"Well!" Elizabeth said brightly. "That _was_ an affectionate greeting, wasn't it? I'm afraid I couldn't stand the suspense any longer. I simply had to come over and—" she narrowed her eyes at the girl and put her hand on the hilt of her sword as she finished, "—find out just _who you are."_

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed in realization. "Didn't mean to exclude you, darling," he said to Elizabeth, holding out his hand to her. His smile softened and broadened as he took the girl's hand in his other one. "It's me sister, Liz."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "Your sister?" she squeaked in surprise.

"Aye! 'Lizabeth, meet my sister, Sarah—what's your married name again, love?" he asked.

"Spring."

"Sarah Teague Spring," Jack finished. "This is me wife, Elizabeth Swann. Sparrow. Smith. Teague. You can take your pick of names, really, but we are married."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs… er—" Sarah seemed at a loss as to which name to choose.

Elizabeth laughed. "We're family now, Mrs Spring. You may use my Christian name if you like, and it's a pleasure to meet you, too."

"Then you must call me Sarah, Elizabeth. I shouldn't be surprised that the woman to capture my big brother's heart would be one who knows how to use a sword," she said, nodding toward the one that hung at Elizabeth's side.

"Oh, well—it's just that we didn't know what to expect when Captain Teague sent us. And I must apologize for coming across so threatening as I did. You see," she said, giving Jack a playful look, "I often have to chase women away from my husband. Some require more… persuasion… than others," she said, patting the sword. "To keep their distance."

"And my Lizzie's always up to the challenge," Jack responded fondly.

"I jolly well have to be, don't I?" Elizabeth retorted. "There're so many!"

"Aw, shut it, you," Jack said. "Me little sister don't need to hear about that!" He turned back to Sarah. "Are you the cargo that Teague sent us to fetch for him, or are there actual goods to pick up?"

"I'm half of it," she replied laughingly. "No goods, though."

"Oh, did your husband come too?"

"No. Not my husband."

"Not—not Adam?" Jack asked with excitement.

She nodded, beaming.

Jack laughed aloud. "No! I thought he'd be too busy lording it up over there in merry olde England!"

"Father wrote to us about your pardons, so we both wanted to come and see you now that we can do it safely. But Jack," Sarah asked, placing a hand on his arm. "Don't embarrass Adam, hmm? He's a little self-conscious about inheriting this lordship."

"I shall be the soul of dignified comportment," Jack promised.

Elizabeth snorted. "This I have to see."

A dark-haired young man in his early twenties came down the gangplank.

"There he is," Sarah said.

Jack straightened his shoulders as his younger brother hurried down the gangplank with a smile.

"Jack!" the young lord cried, waving.

Jack bowed formally. "Allow me to welcome you to Port Royale, your lordship," he said, his accent suddenly coming out as posh as Elizabeth's ever had.

"Er," Adam replied, puzzled.

"We are honored by your visit, especially so soon after your ascendency to the peerage, Lord Dalrymple," Jack went on, sounding more high-class than ever.

Adam lifted his chin. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your welcome, _in_sincere though it may be," he replied stiffly. "I must confess that I had rather expected to be greeted as a brother rather than as a lord, though."

"You have our worthy sister to thank for that," Jack went on, with never a hint of a slur in his formal, pear-shaped tones. "It was she who warned me not to embarrass you by my manner of greeting."

Adam replied just as formally, "Then I respectfully urge our esteemed sister to stuff it, and you to greet me like a brother."

Ice sufficiently broken and sister's face sufficiently red, Jack grinned and held out his arms. "Come here then, squidge!"

Adam leaped to hug Jack, the two of them pounding each other on the back and laughing all the while. Jack grabbed his brother's face, pulled it down, and smacked several kisses across his forehead as well before he released him. He stood back to look him over. "So you finally got your growth, eh?" he joked. Adam now topped him by several inches. "'My word, you _are_ a good-looking pair of siblings. How'd that happen?"

Elizabeth had to agree; they were. All three of them had inherited their father's black hair and dark eyes, but Adam and Sarah had more English features: broader faces, fairer skin, rosy cheeks. Next to them, Jack's fine, chiseled features and golden skin bore evidence of his own mixed heritage, but it was obvious they were all related.

Elizabeth smiled at the sight, and Adam's attention was drawn to her. "Who's this?" he asked Jack.

Jack, with a twinkle in his eye, said, "Ah, yes, I'd like you to meet Captain Swann, one of me colleagues. Captain, this is my brother, Adam Lord Dalrymple."

"Your servant, sir," Elizabeth said in a low tone, bowing to go along with the joke, wondering how long it would be before Adam realized she was a woman.

"I'm honored, Captain," the young lord replied.

"Speakin' o' servants, I'm assuming yours will be along with your luggage, aye?" Jack asked, returning to his usual slurred, working-class accents. "Come on, then. I've a carriage to take us all back to Teague's." He led the way with Elizabeth at his side, with Adam and Sarah trailing behind.

When Adam noticed Jack had taken Elizabeth's hand, he nudged his sister. "Is Jack holding hands with that sailor?" he asked, eyes wide as saucers.

Sarah giggled and nodded. "Looks as if."

"B-b-but… he's our brother!" Adam said in a strangled voice.

"So he is. But doesn't he look happy?"

Jack had at that moment let out a ringing laugh at something Elizabeth had said, and without pausing he'd lifted Elizabeth's hand to his lips. He could just barely hear Adam's soft-spoken comments. Jack's grin widened and he slid his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and pulled her close. Without slowing his stride, he bent his head and kissed Elizabeth lightly on the mouth.

That was it. "Jack!" Adam called out.

Jack and Elizabeth slowed and turned to face him.

"Exactly what sort of 'colleague' is this Captain Swann?"

"Technically, Captain Swann is my superior," Jack said. With a glint in his eye, he explained, "_Above me_, y'know."

"I don't need to know that sort of thing!" Adam protested, turning red. "Just who is Captain Swann to you? And does our father know?"

"I should hope so, since he was present when we was _joined_—" Jack paused just long enough for Adam to turn puce, and then continued, "—in Holy Matrimony."

Adam's mouth fell open and he stared at Elizabeth, eying her closely up and down from hat to boots, and everything in the middle.

Jack started to get uncomfortable with Adam's thorough inspection of Elizabeth's figure, and stepped in front of her. "Oi! That's enough oglin' my wife, little man!"

Adam was startled into a laugh. "'Little man'? Oh, God, I haven't heard that for years!" He smiled at Elizabeth. "So who are you, really, uh… ma'am?"

Elizabeth smiled back. "Really, I am Jack's wife, Elizabeth Sparrow. And I do captain a ship under the name Swann. And yes, I am technically Jack's superior in the pecking order of pirate peerage."

Adam shook his head, still smiling. "I could thump him for playing a trick like that. Welcome to the family, Mrs Sparrow. Call me Adam, won't you?"

"Elizabeth, then, Adam. And Jack is awfully good at lying by telling the truth. Can't think where he picked up _that_ particular skill!"

"Come on, come on, time and tide, children!" Jack collected Elizabeth's hand again, with a wicked smile at his brother, and marched off toward the carriage.

"'Little man?' 'Time and Tide?' _'Squidge?'_ He never changes, does he?" Adam remarked quietly to Sarah as they scrambled to catch up. "What did he call you when he saw you?"

"He called _me_ 'Sweetheart,'" she told him smugly, "And he told me I was beautiful!"

Adam grumbled quietly to himself the rest of the way to the carriage.


	89. Landfall

Elizabeth and nine-year-old Jacob stood together on the cliff above New Flimwell, waiting. Earlier Jacob had been skipping along and singing Elizabeth's old pirate song from her childhood, but now he just stood there with her, looking out to sea.

"Mum?" Jake asked. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"He'll love you, darling," Elizabeth assured her son. "He's been waiting for years to see you again." She stroked his dark brown hair away from his face.

"I'm a bit nervous," the boy confided. "Anyway, how can I have two fathers that are both alive?"

"I married Will in the middle of a pirate battle, and he was killed just moments later," Elizabeth explained, "Your dad made a big sacrifice that day so that Will could remain somewhat alive, even if he had to live on the ship of the dead from then on. And then the goddess of the sea did a miracle so that Will and I could have you! It was your dad's quick thinking that kept Will from dying completely."

"Dad always thinks quickly," Jacob said with pride. Then, with a worried little frown, he asked. "Is it bad if I still think of Dad as my father? It's just that I don't know Mr Turner, mum. It seems like I'm being disloyal to Dad."

"No, darling, of course it's not bad if you think of Dad as your father. He's known you and loved you since right after you were born. But Will and your dad have always been good friends. Well, more or less, anyway. Your dad wants you to have this chance to get to know your blood father. Let me ask you—did Dad seem bothered about your spending time with your blood father, maybe getting to know him a bit? Did _he_ act like it would be disloyalty?"

Jacob grinned. "Not a bit. He seemed pretty happy down there at the pub, all right! Tommy Harrison was there, and Mr Quimby, and even Reverend Swift! People were buying Dad drinks right and left, and everyone wanted to see Joanna."

"There, you see? Your father Will is going to want to spend time with you and get to know you, Jacob. I hope you can give him that opportunity."

"I will, mum."

"Look, the sun's going down!" Together they watched as the green flash went up, and a handsome galleon appeared. It bore no resemblance to the old, spiky, rotted _Flying Dutchman_ Elizabeth had known before.

"Let's go down to the beach!" Jacob cried, suddenly excited. Elizabeth laughed and followed more slowly. Just as she got to the bottom of the hill, Jacob stopped short so Elizabeth could catch up with him.

His mouth and eyes were wide open, staring at the waterline.

Will was emerging from the water, perfectly dry, and smiling. Elizabeth cried out his name and rushed past Jacob toward him. He met her halfway, arms outstretched, and laughing.

Elizabeth laughed too, giving him the strongest hug she could. "Oh, Will, I'm so glad to see you!"

"I'm glad you came to meet me!" he replied. "I wasn't sure. It's been so long!"

"Well, when Barbossa stole back his monkey, we lost our only method of contacting you. I'm just glad you managed to tear yourself out of Calypso's arms long enough to come see us!" Elizabeth teased, releasing him.

Will grinned and nodded. "And I see your devotion to Jack didn't keep you from coming to see me?"

"He wanted us to," Jacob piped up. "He said I ought to know my blood father."

Will held out his hand cautiously for his son to shake. "Jacob, it's a true pleasure to see you again at last."

"And you as well, sir," Jacob told him with a polite handshake. "Will you come up to the cottage?"

"Aye, I'd be glad to," Will said. "But you're my son. You don't have to call me sir."

"What would you like me to call you?"

"How about 'dad'?" Will asked, offering a hand to each of them as they walked back up the hill.

Jacob looked uncomfortable, and Elizabeth intervened. "That's what he calls Jack, Will. He doesn't want to seem disloyal to the man who raised him."

"Ah," Will said. "I should have guessed. Quite right, too." He swung their clasped hands between them as he looked down at Jacob. "Well, Jacob, if you're uncomfortable calling me 'Father,' then how about you just call me Uncle Will until you're grown up, and then you can drop the 'uncle.' We won't worry about proper etiquette, you and I. We'll just do what works for us. Will that do for you, Jacob?"

"Aye, sir, that will do fine. I mean, Uncle Will." He let go of Will's hand and leaped ahead to the cottage. "Do you want to see my sword?"

"Very much," Will told him. "I love swords. I make them, you know."

Elizabeth went in and played hostess, watching them play together with a smiling face and a full heart. She made a modest dinner, knowing that Jack would be bringing up some food from the pub later—and some drink as well, she'd bet anything—after they'd had a chance to talk and spend some time together without him.

She let Jacob stay up until he was yawning every minute, and then sent him to bed. Will went with him, and they had a little "man to man" chat before he came back to the table in the kitchen. He sat down opposite her.

"Tell me about you, now," he asked. "And Jack, of course. Marriage happy?" He asked with a smirk.

She smacked his hand where it lay on the table. "Of course it is!"

"Must have been one of the shortest engagements in history. What was it, a week?"

She pursed her lips. "And a half. We got delayed by the storm."

Will laughed out loud, only hushing when she smacked him again and pointed toward the bedroom—he oughtn't to wake Jacob!

"Didn't waste much time, did he?" He asked, grinning.

Elizabeth's face took on a demure look. "He never has been one to waste much time when he wants something," she said.

"I always wanted to ask—how on earth did there happen to be a clergyman on board?"

"We were on our way to return my aunt to Port Royal, and we took a ship. Dutch. Mostly fabric and lace for cargo, and some goats and Dutch cheese. Anyway, there was a clergyman on there who was a friend of Jack's, so Jack kidnapped him off the ship and had him perform our wedding for us."

Will shook his head with a laugh. "The thought that Jack is friends with a clergyman is astonishing, but his kidnapping him surprises me not at all."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, it is very _Jack_, isn't it? But Philip must not have minded overmuch, as he's since made his home here in New Flimwell."

"What of your aunt?"

"She's well. She and Captain Teague live quite happily together in Port Royale."

"Wait—your aunt lives with Captain Teague?"

"I know, isn't it funny? Jack performed their wedding for them right here on the _Pearl,_ only a few months after we got married!"

Will grinned and shook his head. "Amazing. Do you remember that first time we spoke on the _Pearl_? Have you been able to help Jack gain some respectability?"

"He and I have both been pardoned of piracy and all related crimes. We work for the governor and are good friends with the fort commander. Due to my aunt's influence, we have the ear of the governor. Jack's being married to the daughter of the previous governor helps with that, as does the fact that our Jacob is best friends with the governor's little girl."

"That's good to hear, Elizabeth," Will said. "And how are you personally? Are you happy?"

A shadow crossed Elizabeth's face. "Mostly."

Will frowned. "'Mostly'? What's wrong? Is it Jack?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not! I'm very happy with Jack! It's just that… we should have four children by now, but I lost the twins two years ago. I didn't have any problems with Joanna, but the twins didn't live long after they were born. I just... I miss my babies. The ones I should have had."

"Robert," Will said, with sympathy. "And Isabella."

"How did you know?" Elizabeth cried, astounded.

Will placed a gentle hand on top of her hand. "Jack brought them to me," he told her quietly. "I was able to take care of them and ferry them to the other side. They're fine, Elizabeth. They're with your parents now."

Elizabeth covered her mouth as her eyes filled with tears.

"What's all this, William?" came Jack's voice from the door. "You're making my wife cry?" He set down his packages

"Oh, Jack!" Elizabeth cried as she ran into his arms. "You never told me! How could you never tell me!"

Jack hugged his weeping wife and shot Will a bewildered look.

"Your babies, Jack," Will said. "I ferried them across. They're fine."

Jack buried his face in Elizabeth's hair, and closed his eyes in relief. "There, darling," he told her, "Didn't I tell you they'd be all right?"

Someone Will didn't recognize knocked on the open door. "Pardon me, folks," the newcomer said, "But what do ye want me to do with this?" He indicated the sleeping little girl in his arms.

Jack and Elizabeth parted. "Oh!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Right in the bedroom. Thank you, Tommy!"

Tommy came in and gently placed the girl on the bed, then stood up straight and stretched. He was young, in his early twenties, blond and brawny.

"'Preciate the help, Tommy," Jack told him. "Here, come meet our friend. He doesn't get to visit that often."

"Will Turner," Will introduced himself, rising to shake the lad's hand.

"Tom Harrison. Pleasure."

Jack was rummaging around in the parcels he'd left by the door. "Me hands were full with food and drink, so Tommy was good enough to bring Joey home for us," he said.

"Joey?" Will asked, amused.

Jack looked up. "Aye, short for Joanna. You'll have to meet her in the morning. She's a firecracker." He got up and handed Tommy some coins. "Thanks again, mate. Tell Harry we'll be around for a few days, eh? And ask your step-mum if she'll be good enough to stop in tomorrow morning—she'll get a chance to borrow our children."

Tommy grinned. "Yes, sir. I imagine she'll like that well enough! I know my little sister will be thrilled! 'Night, all. Nice to meet you, Mr Turner!"

"Nice kid," Will said after the young man had left.

Elizabeth nodded. "He's the son of my friend, the one who wrote to Jack in the first place to tell him I was ill. He got sort of adopted by Mr Harris, the carpenter who rebuilt our house."

"And his stepmother is going to borrow your children?"

Jack nodded. "Loves 'em. Jake and Joey are her daughter's best mates, and we don't get a chance to stop here as often or as long as they'd like. Not to mention that I fully intend to stay up all night drinking with you both, and I'm going to want to sleep late tomorrow."

Will laughed. "Have it all planned out, do you?"

Elizabeth smiled. "He's been looking forward to this for months. He wants to see if he can drink the undead under the table."

"A worthy and noble goal," Will complimented, producing a bottle of rum out of thin air and handing it to Jack. "Pity it's hopeless."

"We'll just see about that," Jack took up the challenge.

* * *

The next morning, Will sat slumped in the kitchen chair, nursing the last bottle of rum. He never got drunk anymore, so it hadn't been a fair contest. Jack had given a good account of himself, though, and even Elizabeth had given him a run for his money. They'd had such fun, talking and laughing (and occasionally crying, when the drink flowed freely and the conversation turned maudlin) all night long. They hadn't given up and fallen asleep until almost dawn.

Will had used some of his _Dutchman_ powers to transport them to their bed in the other room, at the same time moving little Jacob and Joey out to their pallets in the kitchen. It was almost sunrise. He'd have to leave soon.

Will felt something pluck his sleeve. He looked down.

Two huge velvety-black eyes in a fine-boned face looked up at him. "Are you my brother's father?" she whispered in a typically loud child's whisper.

He nodded and whispered back, "Yes. Are you my son's sister?" She was about seven or eight, and was so obviously the child of Jack and Elizabeth that he had to smile. She had Jack's eyes, huge in her tiny, pink-cheeked face, which was framed by glossy black curls. She had Elizabeth's jaw line and mouth, and Will could already tell she was going to grow up to be just as lovely as her mother.

"Yes, sir. What am I to call you?"

"You can call me Uncle Will. Is that all right?"

She nodded. "Are you really dead, Uncle Will?"

"Not exactly," he said. "I'm sort of in between."

"Oh," she said. "Are you married?"

Will smiled. "I'm married to the sea."

Just then Jacob woke up and bounded to his feet. "You're married to the sea?" he asked. "How can you be married to the sea? You used to be married to my mum."

"But now she's married to Dad," Joey said. She gave him a skeptical look, hands on hips. "That's very odd, Uncle Will. No one can be married to more than one person unless one of them dies!"

Will chuckled. "It is odd, and no mistake. No one else in the world has a situation like ours, I'd wager. Would you like to meet my wife?"

"How can we, if you're married to the sea?" Jacob asked practically.

Will stood up and held out a hand to each of them. "Come and see. I have to leave at sunrise anyway; would you like to see me to my ship?"

They both grabbed his hands and walked together down to the beach. Will let go of their hands and knelt at the water's edge, placing his hands flat in it, palm-down. He made a couple of strange gestures, and then stood up, wiping his hands off on his trousers.

"Here she comes."

Calypso emerged from the sea like a dark-skinned Aphrodite on the crest of a wave. Her hair was no longer dreadlocked, but long and wavy, and she smiled at the children with even, white teeth.

"This is my wife, Calypso, goddess of the sea," Will introduced her. "These are—"

"I know who dey be," she said with a smile. "I recognize my blessin' on you, Jacob Turnah. I put dat on you when you was only a baby. And you," she said, turning to little Joey. "Joanna Sparrow, I know you as well."

"But I never met you before, Mrs Calypso," the child pointed out reasonably. "Or are you my aunt, ma'am?"

"Aunt will do, child. Your parents know me very well," Calypso said with laughter in her voice.

"What did my brother do to get blessed?" Joey asked. "And how can I do it too?"

Calypso and Will both laughed. "Dis be de chil' of Jack Sparrow an' no mistake!" Calypso exclaimed. "She destined for great t'ings." She reached out and placed her hand on the child's head. Water seeped down from her hand, soaking the little girl's curls and making her blink several times.

"Your whole family love de sea," she said, "An' so de sea love you back. Bot' of you," she said. She looked up at the top of the hill where the cottage stood, with Jack and Elizabeth both asleep in it and added, "_All_ o' you."

"It's time to go," Will pointed out, nodding at the edge of the sun rising above the sea. He knelt down to speak to the children. "Jacob, I'm very proud to be your father, and I am very glad that you also have a 'dad' who loves you as much as I know Jack does. Joey, I know I'm not your father, but I hope you will come to see me as family someday even though I'm not around much. And now I have an important message for you to carry to your parents." He leaned in and whispered something in Joey's ear, and then in Jacob's.

He sat back on his heels and regarded the children. "Can you both remember that? It's very important."

They nodded eagerly and both hugged him goodbye. Joey went and hugged Calypso as well, and Jacob, after a moment of hesitation, followed suit.

"Goodbye, Uncle Will! Goodbye, Aunt Calypso!" The two children waved them off as Will took Calypso's hand in his and disappeared into the waves with her.

Suddenly, the children were no longer on the beach, but back up in the cottage. As one, they ran out onto the bluff overlooking the beach, and, waving, watched the _Dutchman_ sail into the rising sun.

A green flash illuminated the sky as they turned back toward the cottage and went back to their pallets, talking excitedly in whispers until finally dozing off again.

Jack and Elizabeth woke up shortly before Mrs Hound II was to come up to visit and pick up the children.

Jack groaned and held his head as he walked very softly around the little house. "Think we're getting too old for this sort of thing, 'Liz'beth?" Jack asked, shading his eyes from the bright morning sun with a grimace.

"No," she said, not having drunk as much as he, and therefore not having nearly as much of a morning head. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, _you_ may be…"

"Oh, shut it, love, or I'll shut it for you," Jack growled, grabbing her and hauling her against him for a kiss.

Jacob and Joey heard them stirring and came running in. "We saw Uncle Will's ship!" Joey cried.

"Aye, and we got to meet his wife!" Jacob added.

"His wife?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled.

"Aye, Aunt Calypso, the sea goddess. He told us he's married to the sea," Jake explained.

His mother exchanged amused glances with Jack. "Makes sense," she said.

He nodded with a grin. "Well, he did give her his heart. Must've been their sort of wedding."

Elizabeth laughed. "That would mean they have the same anniversary as us!"

Jack grinned.

"And he gave us messages for you," Joey added importantly. "He told me to say that 'he and his wife love you both very much."

"Was that it?" Jake asked, skeptically. "He gave me a better one." He turned to his parents and said, "Uncle Will told me to tell you that our family have all been blessed by the sea—"

"Yes, and she blessed me, too!" Joey interrupted. "Right on top of my head!"

Jacob elbowed her and went on. "And he said that he expects our parents will receive one more blessing."

Jack's eyebrows went up. Elizabeth gasped.

Just then Mrs Hound II knocked on the door. "Yoo hoo! Good morning, my flock o' Sparrows!"

"Good morning, Mrs Hound!" Elizabeth greeted. "How are you?" She grinned. "More to the point, how's Mr Harris? He's asked me about you, you know?"

"Oh, you're a bit naughty, aren't you, Mrs Sparrow? And my not-so-sainted husband barely cold in his grave—"

"—these six years—" Jack put in quietly.

Mrs Hound winked at him. "Wouldn't want Mr Harris to think me a sure thing, now, would I? Best thing in the world, to keep a man waiting!"

"Yes, but for how long?" Elizabeth teased.

"As long as it takes him to win me, my dear!" Mrs Hound said, laughing. "I'm worth waiting for, you see!"

"Pity you didn't have that attitude with Hound," Jack remarked.

"Oh, Captain Sparrow, you know that was a different situation entirely, what with poor little Tommy and Annabelle needing a new mother right away! No, I'm not a bit sorry I married Hound. Not a bit. Those children needed me!"

"Ah, but with Mr Harris adoptin' Tommy—I noticed he's calling himself Harrison now—and you being widowed now, things might change!" Elizabeth told her with a smile. "You're certainly looking well!"

"I am positively blooming, my dear," the lady told her. "And so are you, from the look of you. Well, I don't have the experience with midwifery that my predecessor had, but if you need me, Mrs Sparrow, do call on me, won't you? And now where are your delicious children? I'm feeling hungry this morning!"

She roared and chased a giggling Jacob and Joey right out the door. She turned to call back, "I'll have 'em home by supper! Maybe!"

Jack went and closed the door behind her with a speculative look in his eye as he turned to his wife. "Something you planned to tell me?" he asked her.

"I'd been afraid to," Elizabeth admitted. "Afraid I might jinx this one. I was so devastated when we lost Bobby and Bella!"

Jack pulled her into his arms and held her. "'Lizabeth, you heard the lad. A blessing, he said. I'm fairly sure that means it will be well."

She smiled and pulled his face down to hers to kiss. "What would I do without you, Jack?" she asked.

"Well, you'd be living here alone for one thing," he said practically. "You'd have Jacob, but no husband, no fun, no love or companionship, no rum, no daughter…"

"Trust you to rank the rum above the daughter!" Elizabeth said tartly.

He grinned and kissed her again. Then he lifted his head. "Listen!"

Elizabeth listened for a moment. "I don't hear anything."

"'Xactly."

He took her hand and led her back into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

* * *

_Note: If you do a Google image search for "Naomie Harris," the first couple of pics that show up are how I envision Calypso looking in this chapter. Not so much tattered and stained, but clean and beautiful and strong._

_This is probably going to be the last little oneshot related to this story. I don't have any more written, and my obsession with "Pirates" is starting to fade and be replaced with a new one (a "Who" one, specifically!) Thank you to everyone who read this, and I hope you all enjoyed it. I had a blast writing it, and I appreciate every single review. Best, CL_


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